Echoing Flames: Into the Wild
by TheShadowedWarrior
Summary: Many moons ago, ThunderClan's leader, Bluestar, gave birth to a single ginger kit. One day, he disappeared from the camp, and it was believed that he had died. But five moons later, a kittypet bearing a striking resemblance to the lost kit appears. Who is this kittypet and why does he feel as though he should know who Bluestar is?
1. A Fire's Birth

**I know, I know, I shouldn't be starting a new story when I still have another one to finish, but I couldn't wait any longer. Anyway, this story is for my AU in which Firepaw/heart/star is Bluestar's kit, although he's born in a second litter she has with Thrushpelt. I'll post the AU info on my profile soon. **

**As always, I don't own Warriors.**

* * *

"You're almost there, Bluestar! Just one more push should do it," Featherwhisker meowed encouragingly. His apprentice, Spottedleaf, watched with nervous anticipation as Bluestar clenched her teeth and gave one final heave as ordered. A small, wet ginger bundle tumbled into the nest, and the tortoiseshell medicine cat quickly began licking it.

"It's a tomcat!" Featherwhisker declared, placing the tiny kit beside the ThunderClan leader's belly. In an instant, he snuggled up beside his mother and began to suckle.

"How many more?" Spottedleaf asked, ready to move if she was called to duty again.

Featherwhisker felt along Bluestar's flank with his paw. "That's it," he declared. "Congratulations, Bluestar. You have one strong, healthy tom."

If Bluestar heard anything Spottedleaf's mentor had said, however, she gave no indication. The blue-furred ThunderClan leader-turned-queen was gazing down at her newborn son with an expression of utmost love and admiration in her eyes. Behind the warmth, however, there was a fierce protectiveness as well, and Spottedleaf wondered if Bluestar was thinking about the three kits she had lost to a badger so many moons ago. She sent a silent prayer to StarClan that her leader's son would be safe this time; Bluestar didn't deserve to go through the same heartbreak again.

"Are they here yet? How's Bluestar doing?" Spottedleaf's thoughts were cut off as Bluestar's mate, Thrushpelt, pushed his way into the nursery. The gray tom's eyes lit up when he saw his son. "He's beautiful!"

"What do you think of Firekit for his name?" Bluestar asked, still not removing her eyes from her kit. It was almost as if she was worried that he would disappear if she looked away for even a fraction of a heartbeat.

"It's perfect," Thrushpelt purred, bending his head forward to lick his mate between the ears.

"Firekit it is, then," Bluestar meowed softly, finally tearing her gaze away from the small kitten suckling at her belly and looking Thrushpelt in the eye.

A few nests away, Graykit wriggled himself free from Willowpelt's grasp and stumbled over to see his new denmate. The gray tabby had been born only a few days before and had just opened his eyes the previous morning. Spottedleaf watched as he blundered up to Bluestar's nest, staring at Firekit with a look of awe and curiosity in his eyes.

"When will he be ready to play?" Graykit mewed, reaching out to prod Firekit with his paw. Spottedleaf moved him away before he could, however, and Bluestar shot her a grateful look.

"He won't be ready until he opens his eyes," the tortoiseshell medicine cat apprentice informed him, biting back a purr of amusement at the crestfallen look on his face. "Don't worry, Graykit, he'll be out and about before you know it. Kits usually open their eyes fairly quickly."

Featherwhisker purred in agreement. "Yes, I remember the day Bluestar first opened her eyes. She and Snowfur–Snowkit–decided to explore the camp as soon as she was awake, and the first thing your Clan leader did was get attacked by fresh-kill."

Bluestar huffed in embarrassment as Spottedleaf, Graykit, and Willowpelt all let out a chuckle at the story. "Honestly, Featherwhisker, are you still not going to let that go? It happened almost a lifetime ago!"

The silver-furred tom gave Bluestar a playful smirk. "Sorry to say Bluestar, but that story will never get old."

"And I will never stop wondering why," Bluestar deadpanned.

Featherwhisker opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted as two of the older kits, Sandkit and Dustkit, came barreling into the nursery followed closely behind by their mothers, Robinwing and Brindleface. The two kittens screeched to a halt at the sight of Firekit, staring at their new denmate with a mixture of awe and fascination. Sandkit went to prod Firekit with her paw, but a warning look from Brindleface stopped her.

"Who's that?" Dustkit mewed curiously.

"His name is Firekit," Bluestar answered.

"He's going to be your new denmate until you and Sandkit become apprentices," Robinwing added before turning around and scanning the nursery. "Now, has anyone seen Ravenkit anywhere?"

"Probably hiding in the nest again," Dustkit meowed scornfully. "Ravenkit's no fun. He never wants to play with anyone."

"Dustkit!" Robinwing scolded. "That's your brother you're talking about here. Don't be so rude."

"Sorry," the small tabby kitten mewed. Privately, however, Spottedleaf thought Dustkit had a bit of a point. Of course, she didn't believe it was necessary for him to insult his littermate, but there was no denying that Ravenkit was incredibly timid and shy. She hadn't seen any sign of the little black tom since the start of Bluestar's kitting, which meant he was probably hiding away in the corner of the nursery as usual. Although he was nearly two moons old, Robinwing still hadn't been able to convince him to go outside.

_Hopefully, he'll receive a mentor who can teach him to be more confident, _Spottedleaf thought to herself.

"Why is Firekit so small?" Sandkit asked, staring at the tiny ginger kitten.

"He was only born today," Brindleface explained to her daughter. "He'll grow though, don't worry. And once he's opened his eyes, you can get to know him better."

Sandkit looked a little put out about having to wait to become friends with her new denmate, but being a kit, was able to shrug it off fairly quickly. "Guess what Thistleclaw taught us today?" the pale ginger she-kit meowed excitedly. "He showed Dustkit and me how to do the front-paw swipe!"

"Very good, dear," Brindleface purred approvingly. "You'll be a strong warrior, just like your father."

Spottedleaf, however, couldn't help but notice the look of apprehension on Bluestar's face at the mention of Thistleclaw's name, as well as the way she curled herself protectively around Firekit. She was a bit surprised; was Thistleclaw that awful? It was common knowledge that the mate of Bluestar's deceased sister, Snowfur, and the Clan leader had shared a mutual dislike of each other ever since they were young, an animosity which had seemed to reach its peak when Sunstar chose Bluestar to be his deputy over Thistleclaw. However, Bluestar's behavior almost suggested that she was afraid of her sister's mate attempting to harm her son. Spottedleaf could see where her fear came from, but surely even Thistleclaw wouldn't dare hurt his Clan leader's kit?

_Don't worry about that now, _Spottedleaf reminded herself. _Even if Thistleclaw doesn't like Bluestar, he's not stupid enough to do anything to get himself exiled, right? Besides, he had a son of his own, so he should understand how much Firekit means to Bluestar. Surely he doesn't hate her enough to take that away. Stop worrying so much about what Thistleclaw might do and just appreciate the fact that, in a few moons, the Clan will have a strong, healthy warrior. _


	2. Mother's Love

During the next half moon after Firekit was born, from an outsider's perspective, it would have looked as though Redtail were the leader of ThunderClan instead of Bluestar. The tiny ginger kitten had become the center of his mother's world, and even after he opened his eyes and started playing with the other kits, she refused to be even more than a few fox-tails from him at any time. She still gave out orders on occasion but spent most of her time taking care of her son.

Admittedly, Bluestar did feel guilty at times about neglecting her Clan, but she reassured herself that her warriors were in safe paws. Redtail was more than capable of taking care of ThunderClan while she was busy nursing Firekit. Besides, she reasoned, it wouldn't be forever. As soon as Firekit was old enough to become an apprentice, she would resume her duties as Clan leader again.

"Bluestar, look at me!" Firekit squealed gleefully, pouncing on a leaf and scattering several more about himself.

"Very good," Bluestar purred, giving him a gentle lick atop his head.

As she watched her son play without a single thought or care in the world, the ThunderClan leader couldn't help but think about the last time she had watched her older children, Mistyfoot, Stonefur, and Mosskit do the same. That was back when she was a regular warrior when there was still uncertainty over whether the cat to take Tawnyspots' place as deputy would be herself or Thistleclaw. Goosefeather, the medicine cat before Featherwhisker, had told her that she needed to save her Clan from the bloodthirsty warrior who had been her sister's mate. Despite knowing how much it would destroy her, Bluestar had decided to sneak her kits over to their father, Oakheart, in RiverClan. But Mosskit hadn't survived the journey, and now Mistyfoot and Stonefur no longer remembered her.

_Mosskit, my sweet, are you watching over him? You have a little brother now, _Bluestar thought, watching as Firekit rolled about amongst a pile of grass.

Her only comfort now was knowing that there would never be a need to give Firekit up. The Clan was safe from Thistleclaw; even if she and Thrushpelt decided to have another litter, Redtail would protect her warriors. Not that she had any plans to have more kits, of course, since she was getting much too old to have any more. Besides, getting the chance to raise Firekit was enough for her.

"He's going to be quite the little warrior," Rosetail, Bluestar's best friend, remarked as she padded up beside her Clan leader from the elders' den.

"He certainly is," Bluestar agreed fondly, then tensed as Firekit accidentally tumbled into the nursery. There was a small scuffling noise from inside, and a few heartbeats later, Willowpelt came marching out with the tiny flame-colored kitten held firmly in her jaws and an annoyed expression on her face.

"Do you mind?" the queen asked irritably, setting Firekit down on the ground. "Some of us are trying to sleep, and we don't need you in there making such a racket!"

"Sorry," Firekit muttered, his tone of voice suggesting the exact opposite. Bluestar let out a sigh and walked over to her son.

"Now, Firekit, what have I told you about showing respect?" she scolded her son gently. For a moment, it looked as though Firekit would protest, but a warning glance from his mother stopped him. Sighing in defeat, he turned to face Willowpelt again.

"I'm sorry, Willowpelt. I didn't mean to," he mewed, his voice now contrite. Willowpelt's expression softened, and she nuzzled the small kit gently.

"You're forgiven, dear. Now, go play before your mother makes you take a nap with the rest of us," she teased, and Firekit's eyes widened in horror.

"She wouldn't!" he cried, looking around at Bluestar for reassurance. "Right? I'm not tired! I don't need to take a nap."

However, Bluestar couldn't resist teasing her kit a little. "Well, I don't know, Firekit. You _have _been out here an awfully long time, haven't you? Maybe a nap would be a good idea right about–"

"NO!" Firekit squeaked, taking off as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE, MOTHER!"

Bluestar purred in amusement, then froze in horror as her son, not watching where he was going, barrelled straight into Thistleclaw as he was emerging from the warriors' den. The gray and white warrior let out a snarl of surprise, swiping at Firekit with his claws sheathed. Squealing in terror, Firekit raced away from Thistleclaw and back towards his mother, hiding behind her legs. Rosetail bent down and murmured a few words of comfort into the flame-pelted kit's ear, and his fur slowly began to lie flat.

Her pelt bristling with fury, Bluestar stalked over to where her rival was washing as if nothing had happened. "You good-for-nothing piece of crowfood!" she hissed, causing Thistleclaw to pause in his grooming and look up at her. "Just who do you think you are, attacking my kit?"

"I didn't attack him," Thistleclaw retorted coolly. "If I had, you can be assured that he would be on his way to StarClan right now. Besides, he should be more careful about where he's going."

"That doesn't give you the right to scare him like that!" Bluestar spat, trying to hide the way her fur prickled in fear at his first statement. What did he mean, Firekit would be on his way to StarClan? Did he hate her enough that he would consider killing her son? "It was a mistake. He didn't run into you on purpose!"

"Then teach him to stay away from the warriors' den."

Bluestar bared her teeth in a snarl and stalked over to her longtime rival until she was right in his face. "My sister might have seen something good in you, but I never have and I never will," she growled, and for a moment, Thistleclaw almost looked frightened of her. "I don't care how good of a warrior you are, Thistleclaw. I've seen the way you behave. You're a monster, and if you so much as _look _at my son ever again, I'll see to it that you regret it for the rest of your life."


	3. Desperation

Meanwhile, up in StarClan, a blue-eyed, white she-cat was staring into a large pool of water. Beside her, a sleek, silver-gray queen watched her with growing sadness as a look of horror slowly spread across the white-furred StarClan warrior's face.

"No!" Snowfur cried out, staring desperately into the pool of water as though she could wish for the future she had witnessed to disappear. "This can't happen. There must be something we can do to prevent it!"

"You know we can't, dear," her companion mewed gently. "It's not StarClan's job to interfere with the living."

"But it's not fair, Moonflower!" Snowfur protested, turning her gaze on her mother. "Bluestar already lost one litter of kits when she had to give up Mistyfoot and Stonefur, and Mosskit's here with us. Why does she have to go through this again? She deserves to be happy more than anyone in the forest, yet she still has to deal with the most suffering!"

"I know it's not fair, Snowfur, but there's nothing we can do about it," Moonflower meowed sadly. She and Snowfur had been devastated for Bluestar when she was forced to choose between her kits and Clan, eventually deciding that the needs of her fellow Clanmates had to come first. It had taken several moons, but later, she was able to find new happiness with Thrushpelt. When Firekit was born, it had seemed as though Bluestar's suffering was finally starting to come to an end.

But now, it looked as though Bluestar was going to lose yet another litter. Even worse, Thistleclaw, Snowfur's mate and Bluestar's longtime enemy, would be the direct cause of her anguish. Snowfur felt a pang of disappointment and anger towards the cat she had loved so much when she was still alive. Even if he was jealous that Bluestar became the deputy, then leader, instead of him, there was no excuse for him to target her son.

"How could I not have seen what a monster Thistleclaw was when I was alive?" the white-furred queen hissed, her voice filled with self-loathing. "Bluestar told me all along that he couldn't be trusted, but I wouldn't listen to her. I thought he was a good cat. And now look what's going to happen! He's going to ruin my sister's life, all because he still can't get over the fact that Sunstar chose her to be his deputy instead of him!"

"It's not your fault." It was not Moonflower who spoke, but Stormtail. Both she-cats turned around as the blue-gray tom padded towards them through the undergrowth, his pelt glimmering with starlight. Snowfur noticed Moonflower tense slightly as her father approached, but was too preoccupied with worrying about Bluestar to think much of it.

"It's not your fault," Stormtail repeated once he'd drawn closer to his mate and daughter. "Thistleclaw didn't treat you and Bluestar equally, Snowfur. He was always kind enough to you, but Bluestar..." He trailed off and shook his head before continuing, "Thistleclaw never liked Bluestar; it was apparent even when they were young. She learned not to trust him, but because he was kind to you, Snowfur, you believed him to be a good cat."

"I know," Snowfur meowed, shame making her pelt burn. "I was so stupid to believe that...honestly, _anyone _could see that he's a terrible cat. But I'm not going to dwell on that. I–I wish we could stop all this from happening. Hasn't Bluestar suffered enough already? For the love of all that's good, she lost _everyone _she loved before she received her nine lives! Moonflower, she lost you when Goosefeather gave us that stupid omen that apparently meant we needed to raid the WindClan medicine store. I died when I was hit by a monster on the Thunderpath. She had to give up her kits, losing one in the process, to save ThunderClan from, oh what do you know, Thistleclaw! And Stormtail, well, I guess she didn't lose you _before _her leader ceremony, but it wasn't long after! The point is, Bluestar has already suffered more than anyone should have to in multiple lifetimes–and now you're telling me that she has to go through even _more _pain? When is it ever going to stop for her?"

Her fur was bristling, her blue eyes blazing with cold fire as she vented her frustrations at her parents. She knew they were right and that there was nothing anyone could do to change Bluestar's fate, but that didn't make her feel any better. On the contrary, it only served to make her despise whoever determined cats' fates even more than she already had. Seriously, what had her sister ever done to make fate hate her so much?

When Snowfur was still a young kitten, she had once whined to Moonflower that it wasn't fair that she and Bluestar (Bluekit at the time) had to wait for six moons to become apprentices and leave the camp. Moonflower's response was to inform her that life wasn't fair before ordering her to take a nap. At the time, Snowfur decided that life being unfair meant that one could never receive anything they wanted in life, at least not when they wanted it.

Now, however, she knew there was much more to it than that. It wasn't just that one never got what they wanted; it was that the goodcats could never receive what they wanted. All the best cats were made to suffer unimaginable tragedies in life, while other warriors with less than pure intentions seemed to be given every blessing in the world. They would pay the consequences after death, granted, but Snowfur was never satisfied with this. In her mind, those types of cats didn't deserve any pleasure, whether they were dead or alive.

_I hope you're pleased with yourself, Thistleclaw, _Snowfur thought furiously as an image of her former mate appeared in the pool. He looked the same as ever, and yet she found that she barely recognized him anymore. _Does it please you to know that you're going to break my sister's heart all over again? I suppose it will; you always hated her. Well, enjoy it while you can, because once you die, you'll suffer the consequences of your decisions. StarClan will never, ever accept you. _

* * *

**Things are about to get intense here, in case this chapter wasn't already an indication, lol. I'm sorry if anyone ships Snowfur and Thistleclaw, but I do believe that if Snowfur ever saw him hurt Bluestar, she would turn on him in an instant. Siblings come first, and Bluestar and Snowfur were pretty close. **

**The fact that she can see how evil Thistleclaw actually is from StarClan would also be enough to convince her to leave him. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading. **

**Sincerely, **

**TheShadowedWarrior**


	4. Lured

Firekit scampered through the forest after Bluestar, trying desperately to keep up with his mother. After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, he was finally being allowed to venture out of the camp and into ThunderClan territory. Usually, kits weren't allowed to leave home until their apprenticeship at six moons, but Firekit suspected that he had complained and pestered his mother so much that she was forced to give in. The fact that he knew just the right expression to make to get what he wanted certainly didn't hurt either.

"Bluestar, where are we going first?" Firekit asked, his voice eager as he scrambled over a small log.

However, Bluestar only purred softly. "You'll see, little one," she replied mysteriously.

Firekit couldn't resist pouting at that response. "But waiting's no fun," he whined. "I want to know _now_!"

Unfortunately, it seemed that Bluestar was determined to tease him, for she merely shook her head and continued walking. Firekit huffed at the blue-gray queen but quickly forgot his irritation and started scampering to catch up again. As they proceeded on their walk, Bluestar leaped over a small bush with green berries growing off it, easily clearing it in a single bound. Determined to keep up with his mother, Firekit attempted to do the same, only to go crashing face first into the underbrush. To add insult to injury, he had somehow managed to get stuck as well, so the top half of his body was inside the bush while his tail and hindquarters were sticking out the other end.

"Hey! It's dark in here! Let me out!" Firekit mewled, flailing his legs about as he tried in vain to escape his prison.

Luckily for him, Bluestar took pity on her son and gently pulled him out of the bush by his tail. Setting him down on the forest floor beside her, she began grooming the twigs and leaves out of his fur. Firekit squeaked in protest and tried to escape, but his mother somehow managed to prevent him from moving. Sulking, he curled his tail over his paws and wished time would pass more quickly so that his bath would end sooner.

As if StarClan had heard his prayer, at that moment Redtail padded through the undergrowth, a grim expression on his face. Bluestar paused in her washing of her son to greet the ThunderClan deputy, and Firekit silently cheered Redtail for his impeccable timing.

"Stay still for a moment, Firekit. I need to talk to Redtail," the blue-furred she-cat ordered.

"Okay, Bluestar," Firekit mewed obediently. Secretly, however, the flame-colored kitten had no intention of staying put at all. As soon as Bluestar had her back turned, Firekit took the opportunity to sneak away from the two warriors and continue his adventure through the forest. He knew she would be upset with him when she realized he was gone, but he couldn't resist. There was just so much he wanted to see and do, and he didn't have the patience to wait for his mother to finish whatever business it was she needed to attend to at the moment.

He had just passed another bush similar to the one he had gotten stuck in when he heard a low, menacing voice from behind him ask, "And where are you going, kit?"

Firekit spun around, freezing in terror as he came face to face with Thistleclaw, the cat who had attacked him a half moon before. Well, he supposed Thistleclaw technically hadn't _hurt _him, but that didn't lessen Firekit's fear of the warrior at all. The memory of the massive cat's front paw swiping through the air, mere inches from his face, was still burned into the kit's mind.

"Relax, I'm not here to hurt you," Thistleclaw meowed, although that didn't reassure Firekit in the least. "Are you lost? Kits usually aren't supposed to leave the camp, you know."

"N-no, I'm not lost," Firekit squeaked, trying and failing to get his legs to stop shaking. "B-Bluestar said she needed to talk to Redtail, so I decided to go play."

"Adventurous, I like it," the gray and white tom purred. Unlike when his mother did it, however, the sound didn't make him any less intimidating. "I'll tell you what, Firekit. Why don't I take you to a special place where you can play hide and seek? Does that sound like fun to you?"

Firekit could have named about two million reasons why that did _not _sound like fun, but he was too frightened of Thistleclaw to say anything. Instead, the small ginger kit nodded mutely, allowing Thistleclaw to lead him deeper into the forest. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and run back to Bluestar, but he had no idea where he was, hence forcing him to tag along with the gray and white warrior.

_Maybe it won't be so bad, _a voice in his head tried to reason. _If Thistleclaw wanted to hurt you, he would have done so by now. Right? _

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, they came to a small clearing beside a long line of strange-looking wooden planks sticking out of the ground. Firekit stared around in confusion, wondering why Thistleclaw had brought him here. He hadn't played much hide and seek in his life, but he knew that the purpose of the game was to _hide_, and there didn't appear to be much room for that in a clearing.

"Why–why are we here?" he asked nervously. "I don't think I can hide anywhere here."

"Because, Firekit, this is where the game starts," Thistleclaw meowed in what he evidently thought was a gentle voice. Gesturing with his tail towards the wooden planks, he continued, "See that? That's called a fence. I'm going to sit facing that fence and count to ten. While I'm counting, you run into the forest and try to find a place to hide. As soon as I finish the counting, I'll come looking for you. Does that make sense?"

"I think–yes," Firekit replied quietly, and Thistleclaw gave a nod of satisfaction.

"Good. Now, let's play," the older tom meowed. Turning so that his back was towards Firekit, he began counting. "One...two...three...four..."

Eager to find a good hiding place, Firekit ran off into the woods again. Eventually, he settled for secluding himself beneath a small bush, taking care not to get any twigs stuck in his fur this time. The last thing he wanted was for Bluestar to give him another wash when he returned home later. She was going to be furious enough with him already, and one thing he knew was that his mother's baths were extraordinarily rough when she was upset.

After some time had passed and Thistleclaw still hadn't shown up, Firekit began to grow bored. Perhaps, he reflected, he had chosen his hiding spot a little too well, and now his Clanmate was having trouble finding him. Instead of worrying, however, Firekit merely closed his eyes and decided to take a short nap. Bluestar had told him before that ThunderClan warriors were excellent trackers, so he saw no reason to believe that Thistleclaw wouldn't find him soon. Exhausted from a long day of adventuring through the territory, Firekit allowed a wave of sleep to claim him.


	5. Searching

**Note: edited for a couple of missing words.**

* * *

_"WHERE IS HE?!" _

Bluestar's panic-filled yowl echoed through the forest, frightening the mice and rabbits back into their burrows. Redtail, Spottedleaf, Thrushpelt, and Whitestorm tried to calm the agitated queen, unfortunately to no avail. She paced back and forth, tail lashing and fur bristling as she searched in vain for her missing kit.

"He was here just a moment ago!" she cried desperately. "Where could he have gone? I only looked away for a little bit!"

"Bluestar, calm down," Thrushpelt meowed, trying to soothe his mate. "What's happened?"

"Firekit!" Bluestar wailed. "Redtail came to talk to me, and I told him to stay put and wait for me. But I just turned around now, and I can't find him anywhere!"

"Let's think this through logically," Spottedleaf meowed. Except for Whitestorm, out of all the cats present, the tortoiseshell medicine cat appeared to be the calmest. "It hasn't been that long since Firekit went missing, has it? And he's only a small kit, so I doubt he could have made it very far. Thrushpelt, you and I can search around the area. Whitestorm, Redtail, go back to camp and organize a few more search parties. Bluestar, I want you to go back to camp and wait for us to return."

"What?" Bluestar exclaimed, staring at her medicine cat in disbelief and anger as Whitestorm and Redtail nodded and ran back home. "Fox dung I'm staying in camp! That's my _son_, Spottedleaf! You can't expect me to sit on my tail and twiddle my paws while everyone else is out there looking for him. I'm going on a search party whether you like it or not!"

However, Spottedleaf held her gaze evenly, her amber eyes unblinking. "Bluestar, in the state you're in right now, you won't be much use on a search party," she pointed out calmly. "You're too distressed, and your emotions will get in the way. Whitestorm and Redtail will take the best trackers in the Clan. _Please_, go back home and wait."

Bluestar knew that Spottedleaf had a point, but it didn't make her feel any better. She had thought that her troubles were over after she was forced to give up Mistyfoot and Stonefur to save ThunderClan from Thistleclaw, but it appeared as though StarClan was determined to cause her even more suffering. Even though she didn't know for sure that Firekit was dead, her pathetic excuse for luck that she'd lived with her whole life wasn't leaving her feeling particularly optimistic.

"Bluestar," Thrushpelt murmured, placing his tail-tip gently on the blue-furred queen's shoulder. "Please wait for us back at camp. I'll find our son; I promise you I will."

Bluestar closed her eyes, resting her head on her mate's shoulder. "Find him," she whispered, soft enough that only he could hear. "Find him, and bring him home."

After a few moments, she pulled away and turned to walk back towards the ThunderClan camp. Casting one final look over her shoulder, she saw Thrushpelt give her an encouraging nod before turning around and disappearing into the undergrowth with Spottedleaf. She tried to be hopeful, telling herself that her mate wouldn't return until he had pulled apart every thicket, every bramble bush in search of her kit. But in her mind's eye, all she could see was an image of her warriors bringing back Firekit's limp, blood-soaked body, and she could only pray that it was mere paranoia and not a vision of the future.

Back at the camp, Bluestar decided to head to her den underneath the Highrock for a short nap until the search parties returned. She didn't want to face the sympathetic glances of her Clan, having had quite enough of that during her lifetime. Besides, maybe a little sleep would be just what she needed to calm herself down. The blue-gray she-cat curled up in her nest, falling into a restless slumber punctuated by dreams of the scent of foxes and the sound of Firekit's terrified screams.

* * *

In one of the houses near the edge of Twolegplace, Firekit blinked his eyes open to find himself nestled up beside a she-cat. It was a familiar sensation, except for the fact that the cat did not have his mother's scent, nor did she resemble Bluestar in any way, shape or form. This she-cat was a brown and white tabby, not a blue-gray queen. Not only that, but who were the other kits sleeping beside him? The last time he checked, he didn't have any brothers or sisters. Confused, Firekit glanced around himself and realized that the kittens and the brown and white tabby queen weren't the only unfamiliar things about his surroundings. The comforting sights and scents of the ThunderClan camp were gone as well.

_Where am I? _Firekit thought, panic rising inside him. He sniffed the air, trying to search for Bluestar's scent, but couldn't pick it up. The flame-colored kit whimpered, looking around as though expecting Bluestar to jump out from behind a corner and surprise him.

"Oh, you're awake!" A voice from behind Firekit made him jump, and he whirled around to see the brown and white tabby looking back at him. "I was wondering when you would wake up. You weren't looking too well when my housefolk brought you in."

"W-where am I?" Firekit asked fearfully. "Where are my friends? Where are Graykit, Ravenkit, Sandkit, and Dustkit? Where's Thrushpelt? Where's Bluestar?"

"Slow down, little one," the tabby meowed gently. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know any of those cats. Are they friends of yours?"

Firekit nodded fervently. "Graykit, Ravenkit, Sandkit, and Dustkit are my denmates," he informed the strange queen. "And Thrushpelt is–"

He broke off, shaking his head in frustration. The brown and white queen was looking at him with an expression of confusion in her pale green eyes, and he could tell that none of his words were making the least bit of sense to her. Firekit decided to go with a different tactic, one that he hoped she would be able to understand.

"Where's my mother?" he asked, trying and failing not to show how panicked he felt. "Where is she? She's going to be worried if I don't go back home soon. Please, can you help me find her?"

However, the brown and white tabby only gave him a sad look. "I'm sorry, little one," she whispered.

Firekit froze, staring at his companion in confusion. "W-what do you mean?" he asked fearfully. "What happened? You can take me back, can't you?"

But she only shook her head. "I don't know where your mother is, sweetheart," she meowed softly. "My housefolk brought you to me, smelling of the forest. I've never left this house, and I don't have any way of finding your mother."

"No!" Firekit wailed. The other kittens mewled irritably as his voice woke them up, but the flame-colored tom found he didn't care. He was never going to see Bluestar again. He was going to spend the rest of his life in this strange nest, all because he had stupidly followed Thistleclaw and played his mouse-brained game. "I want to go home! I want my mother!"

Ignoring the tabby she-cat's protests, he began racing through the unfamiliar territory, searching desperately for a way out. A few moments later, he spotted the familiar sight of moonlight peering through a thicket of trees, only to discover that a strange, see-through wall was blocking it.

"Let me out!" Firekit screamed, pounding at the wall with as much strength as he could muster in his small paws. "I want my mom! I don't want to live here! Bluestar?! Mother?! _Mama!_"

His wails echoed through the house until finally, exhausted, Firekit curled up by the strange-looking wall and fell asleep. Maybe, he thought hopefully, when he woke up, he would find out that everything had only been a terrible dream.


	6. Rusty

A small, flame-colored tom leaped on top of the fence that separated the houses from the neighboring forest, gazing out at the trees. It was nearing moonhigh, so most of the other cats living in the town were asleep, but Rusty could faintly make out what sounded like yowling. He peered into the forest, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of anything suspicious, but was unable to see much of anything in the growing darkness.

Of course, it was entirely possible that he had only imagined the sound. His mother (no, his _adopted mother_, he reminded himself) had told him and her kits countless stories about the savage wild cats which prowled the woods. The rumor going around was that these cats lined their bedding with the bones of wild animals and would kill anyone who dared trespass onto their land. However, what bothered Rusty the most about these stories wasn't that they were frightening, seeing as he had never found them particularly scary at all, but the fact that he felt as though he should know who these strange wild cats were.

Rusty continued to stare out into the trees, feeling the same odd sense of longing he always did whenever he sat on top of the fence. It occurred to him that if he wanted to venture out into the woods, now would be the perfect opportunity. No one else was awake, and his owners wouldn't call him inside until morning. As silently as possible, Rusty leaped off the fence, his paws touching down lightly upon the forest floor. His collar bounced unpleasantly off his neck, the bell emitting a loud, obnoxious ringing sound–Rusty, never being fond of the food his owners tried to feed him, had only ever eaten when necessary. As such, his collar hung loosely around his neck, and it had long since passed the point where his owners could tighten it any further.

The flame-colored kitten glowered down at the blue band hanging around his neck. He loathed the sight of it with every fiber of his being, for it was a symbol of the fact that he _belonged _to the troublesome housefolk that had taken him in. The other cats in the neighborhood had given him strange looks whenever he expressed this sentiment, and even Rusty knew that his thinking was unconventional, but he couldn't help himself; he wanted this _thing _off his neck.

_Hmm, I wonder if I_ could _remove it. Well, let's__ see, _Rusty thought to himself. Bending his head forward slightly, he gave a few shakes of his head, watching in satisfaction as his collar slipped onto the ground. _Yes!_

Before Rusty could revel in his freedom for too long, however, he was caught off guard as a gray blur tackled him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Meowing in outrage, he pummeled his attacker with his hind paws with as much strength as he could muster, feeling a glimmer of satisfaction when he heard the other cat (for it _was _a cat, his senses told him, and a young one at that) grunt in surprise. Taking advantage of the strange gray cat's momentary lapse in concentration, Rusty bit down hard on his shoulder, forcing the kitten to release his hold on him. He scrambled to his paws, breathing heavily and glaring at his attacker.

"What was that for?" he meowed indignantly.

"What do you mean, what was that for?" the gray kitten repeated, staring back at Rusty with something akin to disbelief in his eyes. "You're an intruder! You were trespassing on _my _territory. Not to mention you probably stole some of our prey too."

"Oh, get over it," Rusty snapped. "First of all, I'm _barely _on the other side of the fence. Second of all, I can assure you that I haven't stolen any of your prey. I only came here to get a better look at the forest, which last time I checked wasn't a crime."

For a moment, the gray kitten glared at him as though he were about to attack again. Then he twitched his whiskers and gave his chest fur a lick. "Well, I didn't think it was worth hurting you. I can tell that you don't come from one of the other Clans."

Rusty was about to ask him what he meant, then realized that these _Clans _probably had something to do with the wild cats living in the forest. Instead, he meowed sarcastically, "And I am ever so grateful that I'm not. Heavens above forbid any of these other Clans are unfortunate enough to run into you on a bad night, oh mighty kitten of the forest."

He was inviting trouble, and he knew it, but the temptation to tease this strange cat a little was too great to resist. Honestly, he couldn't have been more than a week older than Rusty at most, and he was talking as if he were some all-powerful cat. Before the gray cat could retaliate, however, a low, menacing voice sounded from somewhere amongst the trees.

"What's going on here?"

* * *

When Bluestar saw the small, flame-pelted kitten talking to Graypaw, it was all she could do to prevent herself from rushing over to him and drowning him in licks. He was a little bigger now, and he had come to take on the odor of Twolegplace, but that didn't matter. Any mother would know their child _anywhere_, no matter how big they were or how unfamiliar their scent was.

_Oh Firekit, my sweet little Firekit. _Bluestar felt her eyes well up with emotion, and she swallowed as her throat began to constrict. _He's alive. My son is alive. _

Somehow, she managed to pull herself together enough to approach Graypaw and Firekit (or Rusty, as he was now called). She even managed to put on her usual mask of intimidation she always wore when dealing with trespassers. But as soon as her eyes met Rusty's gaze, she almost wished she hadn't bothered at all, for it was clear to see that he did not recognize her at all.

Well, Bluestar supposed she should have expected it; after all, Mistyfoot and Stonefur had no idea that she was their birth mother either.

She wasn't quite sure how it happened since her attention was focused entirely on her son, but by the end of her brief discussion with Lionheart, Graypaw, and Rusty, she had somehow ended up inviting her son-turned-Twolegplace cat into the Clan. The excuse she gave was that they needed more apprentices to train, which Bluestar knew was untrue since they already had four, but no one else questioned her statement.

By some miracle, Rusty agreed to accompany them back to ThunderClan. As they walked back to the camp, Bluestar allowed Lionheart to take the lead so she could keep an eye on her kit. She could tell by his scent that he had been living as a kittypet, but he was surprisingly thin for having such a pampered lifestyle, and Bluestar couldn't help wondering if whoever was responsible for taking care of him for the past five moons had mistreated him. Her fur began to bristle ever so slightly; if that were the case, there would be a reckoning for it.

Of course, she realized, in a way, this was all Thistleclaw's fault. For a few moments, Bluestar briefly considered traveling to the Moonstone to ask StarClan to bring the treacherous warrior back to life so she could kill him again. They were capable of granting leaders nine lives, so perhaps they could allow that one small request as well.

Bluestar stole another glance at her son, feeling a pang when she saw the all-too-familiar look of childlike wonder and excitement in his green eyes. She was beginning to realize how painful it was going to be to have Firekit–_Rusty_–in ThunderClan, how much it would hurt to have her kit so close, yet be unable to tell him who she was, at least not for quite some time. But, she reminded herself, he would be _there_, and she would gladly suffer anything if it meant she could watch him grow up.

* * *

**Yay, he's back! As you can see, I decided to change the meeting between Rusty and his Clan friends/family a little since I felt that the original meeting wouldn't work too well with this story. Here, Rusty decides to leave Twolegplace immediately after being offered a place in ThunderClan because he was unhappy living as a kittypet. He might not have any memories of his time as a kit in ThunderClan, but he still has the instincts of a Clanborn cat and knows that living as a Twoleg pet is wrong. **

**As for Thistleclaw, yes, he was sentenced to death because when the search patrols failed to recover Firekit, it was assumed that Thistleclaw had killed him since his scent was discovered alongside Firekit's. The reason I didn't include it was that I couldn't figure out how to write the scene, so feel free to imagine for yourself how everything went down. **

**Finally, since I know a lot of people will probably want to know this, Rusty won't learn that he's Bluestar's son until _much _later in the story. He'll still be close with Bluestar, but he won't know anything about his true relationship to her for a while. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	7. Welcome to ThunderClan

When Rusty set foot in the ThunderClan camp, everyone's eyes immediately turned towards him. He ducked his head, feeling his pelt prickle self-consciously as he followed Bluestar, Lionheart, and Graypaw towards the base of a large rock. He watched as Bluestar leaped on top of the rock and let out a loud yowl: "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting."

Slowly, the ThunderClan cats abandoned their daily tasks and made their way towards the area around the base of the Highrock. Rusty could feel their gazes still trained on him, some curious, others openly hostile. He let out an inward sigh; if this was how he was going to be received by the Clan, he was in for a long day.

"As you all know," Bluestar began from her place on the Highrock. "ThunderClan has been in need of new warriors. Never before have we had so few apprentices in training. Therefore, it has been decided that ThunderClan will take an outsider in to train as a warrior. I have found a cat who is willing to become an apprentice."

Yowls of outrage rose from the surrounding cats. A tortoiseshell tom with a red-tipped tail rose to his paws and protested, "Bluestar, you cannot be serious. Look at him; he looks half-starved. And he smells like a kittypet. We'll have to waste our fresh-kill on him before we can even think about training him."

Despite himself, Rusty felt his fur bristle indignantly. Did these cats take him for some sort of weakling? Without caring that the tortoiseshell was much larger than he was and probably could have killed him in one blow if he felt the need, Rusty leaped to his feet and spun around to face him.

"Just because I'm thin doesn't mean I need charity food," he spat. "And being born a kittypet doesn't mean I can't fight. Why don't you fight me right here and now, and I'll show you how much of a warrior I can be."

The surrounding cats let out a gasp, and Rusty realized that this tom must be someone of high importance within the Clan. To his surprise, however, the tortoiseshell-furred cat looked pleased by Rusty's challenge.

"Well, this one certainly has a fighting spirit," he meowed. Rusty blinked, caught off guard. Was that approval he heard in the warrior's voice?

"Naturally, Redtail," Bluestar replied to the tom, who now had a name. "You didn't think I would invite just anyone to join, did you?"

Redtail flicked his ears. "I suppose not," he acknowledged.

Another warrior, this one a pale tabby with dark black stripes, rose to his paws with a sneer plastered on his face. "Just because you disrespected our deputy doesn't mean you're fit to be a warrior," he snarled. "You can take a kittypet out of Twolegplace, but you can't take Twolegplace out of the kittypet. Go home, runt, you'll never be a true member of ThunderClan."

Rusty bared his teeth. "Want to try me?" he challenged. "Or are you too scared of losing to a _kittypet_?"

"Don't get too full of yourself," the tabby sneered. "I wouldn't lose to you. You're nothing but a pathe–"

Rusty wasn't entirely aware of launching himself at his tormentor, but the next moment, he was clawing and biting at every inch of the pale tabby that he could reach. His attack had caught the older warrior by surprise, and for a moment, he was pinned under Rusty's paws. Soon, however, he regained his senses and the two cats were locked in a fierce tussle, fur flying everywhere. Rusty could feel the tabby's claws scoring through his flank, but the pain was muted by the blood pounding his ears and the fury burning through his veins, indignant that this cat had dared to look down upon him and call him _pathetic_.

"Enough!"

At Bluestar's yowl, both cats broke apart. Rusty stepped back from the pale tabby, his flanks heaving as he fought for breath. Now that the adrenaline from his fight was fading, he was more aware of the blood pouring from his wounds and the stinging pain along his entire body, and he struggled not to show how much his injuries were bothering him. It wouldn't do any good to show weakness now, after all. A few tail-lengths away, the pale tabby glared at him, and Rusty noted with satisfaction that he was sporting his fair share of injuries as well, including a torn ear.

_That should be enough to prove that I belong here, _he thought.

Bluestar leaped down from the Highrock and padded between the two toms. "The newcomer has fought valiantly in a battle for his honor," she mewed solemnly. "Does anyone else have any objections to his acceptance into our Clan?"

No one spoke, although Rusty wasn't sure if it was due to acquiescence or shock that a six-moon-old kitten had attacked one of their warriors. Regardless, Bluestar seemed to take it as acceptance and turned towards him.

"If there is no objection, then from this day forward, this apprentice will be known as Firepaw in honor of his flame-colored coat," she meowed. "Now, because there must be no delay in the training of our apprentices, I will take on Firepaw's training myself."

She bent her head forward, and some part of Rusty's mind told him that he was meant to touch noses with her. He did so briefly before stepping back, excitement coursing through his body. He was going to be an apprentice of ThunderClan!

"Firepaw!"

"Welcome, Firepaw!"

"Good name too!" Graypaw meowed, bounding up to him.

"Not a bad fight for a kittypet." This time, the voice belonged to a large white tom. Firepaw suppressed an inward shudder at the sight of the tom, thanking the heavens that he wasn't the one who had challenged him. "Longtail is a warrior, although he only received his name two moons ago. His defeat won't be forgotten anytime soon."

Firepaw shuffled uncomfortably. "It wasn't really a defeat," he pointed out. "I didn't beat him."

"But neither did he and considering he's been training longer than you, that amounts to the same thing," the white warrior meowed smoothly. "My name is Whitestorm, by the way. Welcome b–welcome to ThunderClan, Firepaw."

"Thank you," Firepaw meowed respectfully, but on the inside, he felt a flicker of confusion. Was it his imagination, or did Whitestorm almost welcome him _back _to ThunderClan?

"You should go see Spottedleaf for those wounds," the great white warrior meowed. "Graypaw can show you the way to her den."

"Yeah, come on, Firepaw," Graypaw meowed. "Spottedleaf will fix you up, and then you can come to meet the other apprentices!"

Firepaw nodded and followed the gray tom towards a fern tunnel at the edge of the clearing, leading into a small cave. Longtail was already inside, as was a small, pretty tortoiseshell molly with amber eyes. As the two apprentices entered, Longtail gave Firepaw a glare but made no move to continue their earlier battle.

"Ah, I was wondering when you would show up," the tortoiseshell molly, whom Firepaw assumed was Spottedleaf, meowed. "Hold tight for a few moments. I'm almost finished with Longtail here, and then I'll get to your wounds."

Firepaw nodded and curled his tail around his paws. His wounds were still bleeding, and he was beginning to feel rather fatigued, although whether it was from blood loss or exhaustion, he couldn't be sure.

"Right," Spottedleaf mewed after a few heartbeats. "You can go now, Longtail. Firepaw, you're next."

Firepaw rose to his paws and padded towards Spottedleaf, moving slower than usual due to the pain. He watched as Spottedleaf mixed a few leaves together, crushing them and mixing them onto wads of cobwebs that she then placed gently on his pelt. Firepaw meowed his thanks to her before turning to follow Graypaw out of the den.

"Come on, it's time to meet your denmates," Graypaw purred. Firepaw wondered silently if he was always this enthusiastic.

He followed his new Clanmate to a thick bush of ferns beside a mossy tree stump. A pale ginger she-cat who looked to be about a moon or so older than Firepaw was there, as well as a skinny black tom and another tom, this one a brown tabby.

"So here comes the new apprentice," the ginger molly meowed, although there was no hostility in her voice. Indeed, she seemed rather friendly, which elicited a scowl from the brown tabby. "My name's Sandpaw, and these two are Ravenpaw and Dustpaw."

"Oh, er–" Firepaw mewed awkwardly, glancing between the two toms.

"I'm Ravenpaw," the skinny black cat clarified. "The tabby is Dustpaw."

Firepaw dipped his head gratefully and replied, "Nice to meet you."

"You'll make a good fighter," Sandpaw remarked. "That was some battle, especially considering Longtail's a warrior. Granted, he's not the best fighter in the Clan, but even so."

"Yeah, it was alright," Dustpaw sneered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "For a kittypet, anyway. I hope you're not going to sleep next to me with that stench."

"You don't smell so pleasant yourself," Firepaw retorted, earning himself a snicker from Graypaw, Ravenpaw, and Sandpaw. Dustpaw glared at them and crawled underneath the ferns.

"You'll have to excuse Dustpaw," Sandpaw sighed. "Redtail is his mentor, and I don't think he liked the fact that you challenged him earlier."

"As I recall, _he _was the one who challenged _me_," Firepaw retorted, to which the pale ginger she-cat flicked her tail.

"I suppose you're right," she acknowledged. "Now come on, let's get you something to eat, for StarClan's sake. You might not like the idea of us feeding you, but you _do _need to eat."

Firepaw knew that she was right and allowed Sandpaw to lead him towards a pile of prey in the middle of the camp. She bent her head down and picked up a small thrush, and he chose a wood mouse. Once they had made their selections, they padded back over to the mossy stump, where Graypaw and Ravenpaw were sitting.

"You didn't bring back any for us?" Graypaw meowed, his eyes wide with fake hurt.

"Get it yourself. You have legs," Sandpaw retorted playfully. Graypaw rolled his eyes but complied, getting to his feet and walking over to the fresh-kill pile.

Firepaw sank his teeth into his mouse, feeling the warm juices flowing through his mouth. He purred slightly; this was _much _better than any of the disgusting brown pellets his owners had tried to feed him. Sandpaw glanced over at him, her green eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Enjoying it, I take it?" she asked.

"Yep," Firepaw replied cheerfully. "This is way better than kittypet food. That stuff was so disgusting, I could hardly ever force myself to eat it."

"Naturally," Sandpaw purred. Then she paused. "Wait, did you just say that you didn't eat before you came here?"

"Well, I did eat," Firepaw amended hastily. "Just not all the time and only when I absolutely had to."

"And that was...?"

"Every few days or so, depending on how long I could force myself to go without food."

Sandpaw and Ravenpaw stared at him in disbelief. "Firepaw! Do you know how dangerous that is?" the black tom meowed. "You could have starved yourself to death!"

"I wouldn't have done so if my food didn't taste as if my owners were trying to poison me," Firepaw grumbled.

"Oh, I suppose you have a point there," Ravenpaw meowed with a sigh. Glancing up, he added, "Hey, why is Bluestar looking over at you? Do you think she needs something?"

Curious, Firepaw looked over at his Clan leader and mentor as well and saw that Ravenpaw was telling the truth. Bluestar was gazing at him from the base of the Highrock, and even from his vantage point, it was easy to see the expression of sorrow in her blue eyes. As soon as their eyes met, however, her expression cleared and she turned and walked towards Redtail and Whitestorm, who were eating together beside a clump of nettles.

_Odd, _he thought. What could he possibly have done to upset her? Shrugging, he dismissed the question and turned around to take another bite out of his mouse.

* * *

** As you can see, I've made some changes to Rusty's entrance into ThunderClan. I know Longtail probably seemed pretty weak in this chapter, and that's because I didn't get the impression that he was a particularly good fighter in the canon series. Forget the fact that his career was ended by a _rabbit_, not being able to beat a kittypet who had no previous battle training doesn't exactly speak well for him. **

**Redtail is also still alive since Rusty chose to leave with Bluestar, Lionheart, and Graypaw immediately after being offered a place in ThunderClan instead of waiting a day before making his decision. **

**Yes, Whitestorm recognized Rusty when he came to ThunderClan. I felt that since he and Bluestar were close, he should be able to recognize his aunt's son. Spottedleaf knows who Firepaw is as well, but I forgot to show that in this chapter. I'll try to add it into a future one. **

**I've also made some changes to Firepaw's relationships with the other apprentices. His battle with Longtail earned him Sandpaw's respect, and they get along the best so far. Ravenpaw is still his shy, quiet self, so he won't warm up to Firepaw until later. Graypaw likes Firepaw, but right now Firepaw finds him a bit annoying even though he doesn't exactly dislike him. And Dustpaw...yeah, he's jealous. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**TheShadowedWarrior**


	8. So Close, Yet So Far

That evening, Bluestar curled up in her mossy nest at the back of her den, carved out from the base of the Highrock. Despite the fact that it was nearly moonhigh, the ThunderClan leader didn't feel tired in the slightest. She was, therefore, still wide awake when her nephew, Whitestorm, padded into her den barely two heartbeats later.

"Whitestorm?" she meowed, sitting up in her nest. "What's the matter? Is there something you need?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Firepaw, Bluestar," the white warrior meowed at once.

"What about him?" Bluestar asked although she could already guess what her sister's son was going to say.

Sure enough, Whitestorm's next words were: "He's your son, isn't he? Firekit. His ThunderClan scent has disappeared, but I would recognize your son–my cousin–anywhere."

Bluestar nodded. "He is," she whispered, her voice cracking as she remembered the mingled sorrow and joy that had pierced her heart when she first saw her presumably dead son after five moons. "I don't know how it happened, but it _is _him. He's my little warrior."

Whitestorm nodded, his yellow eyes gleaming with happiness almost as powerful as Bluestar's. He had been close to Firepaw before his disappearance, so Bluestar wasn't surprised that he had also recognized her lost kit. Thrushpelt would have recognized him as well, no doubt, but her mate had died of greencough two moons after Firepaw's supposed death. Well, at least that was what Spottedleaf had said, although Bluestar suspected that it had more to do with a broken heart. She wondered if Thrushpelt had been able to see Firepaw after he died, or if he had also been unaware of his whereabouts until she stumbled across him by the border to Twolegplace. Whatever the case, he would know that their son was alive now.

_Help me watch over him, Thrushpelt, _the blue-gray she-cat pleaded silently. _Don't let the same thing happen to him. I can't lose him twice. _

Lost in thought, Bluestar hadn't realized that Whitestorm was speaking to her until she felt a paw poke at her side. Snapping out of it, she glanced away from the wall she'd been staring at and back over to the great white warrior.

"Er, sorry," she meowed awkwardly. "What were you saying again?"

"I was just asking you when you were planning on telling Firepaw the truth about you and him," Whitestorm repeated.

Bluestar hesitated for a few moments, mulling the question over in her head. If she had it her way, she would have told Firepaw who she was as soon as she saw him. The thought of being so close to him, yet not being able to tell him what he meant to her was almost as painful as losing him a second time. She would be his mentor and leader, which certainly weren't the worst relationships to be had, but she wanted to be his mother too.

However, common sense held Bluestar back from acting on her maternal instincts. She suspected that Firepaw wouldn't take kindly to a strange cat he barely knew claiming that he was her long-lost son. In all likelihood, he would think she had lost her senses. And on the off chance that he did believe her, then he would probably assume that she had abandoned him and hate her for it. As difficult as it would be to live in a world where Firepaw didn't know who she was, Bluestar knew that it would be impossible to live in a world where her kit hated her.

"I don't know," she meowed finally. "I _want _to tell him now, but...I know that wouldn't be a good idea. The only thing I can really do is wait until we get to know each other better, but..."

"But what?" Whitestorm prompted, his voice gentle.

Bluestar shut her eyes. "But...I don't know how long that would take," she meowed, her voice cracking. "What if he decides he hates me? What if there's never the right time? What if, by the time we do get to know each other, he doesn't need me to be his mother anymore?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Whitestorm meowed, and the sharpness of his tone surprised her a little. "There's no way Firepaw would ever hate you. The only cat who ever _hated _you was Thistleclaw, Bluestar. As for finding the right time, you're going to have to make that happen on your own. It's not as if StarClan is going to send you a sign that says, _Okay, now you can tell your apprentice that he's actually your son _or anything of the sort."

Bluestar nodded slowly.

"And Bluestar," her nephew continued, more gently this time. "Firepaw will _always _need you to be his mother. Just because he's going to grow up doesn't mean that's ever going to change. If Moonflower were still alive, would you need her to be your mother any less than you did when you were a kit?"

Bluestar purred weakly, willing the tears she could feel building up not to make an appearance. "When did you become so wise?" she murmured.

"You and Snowfur taught me everything I know," Whitestorm replied simply. Bluestar couldn't help but notice that he didn't include his father, Thistleclaw, in that statement, and despite the emotional turmoil going on in her heart, she couldn't suppress a flash of satisfaction. "I know it's going to be hard to keep this secret from Firepaw–believe me, I wanted to tell him the truth as soon as I saw him, and he's not even my son–but look on the bright side. Even if he doesn't know who you are right away, you still get to watch your son grow into a warrior–_and _you'll be the one to guide him."

"I know," Bluestar murmured, her blue eyes still downcast. She knew Whitestorm was right, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt.

After a few more moments of small talk, Whitestorm decided to turn in for the night and left her den. Once he was gone, Bluestar waited for a while before getting up as well and padding outside. She didn't move from the base of the Highrock, however, instead choosing to stay where she was and turned her attention to the apprentices' den. Through a small gap in the fern bush, she could just barely make out Firepaw's flame-colored coat as he slept, and a purr rumbled in her throat.

_I love you, my precious son. I swear on my life that I'll make you into the finest warrior ThunderClan has ever seen. Even if you don't know what you mean to me, I won't let anything happen to you. _


	9. First Day

**Yay! An update! Okay, okay, I know it's not that exciting. **

**Sir Nut: Glad you enjoyed! **

**Arcantos the Storyteller: Thank you! I think this story's been planned out a bit better than my Bitter Repercussions fanfic. **

**Echoflight21: I agree, a lot of people don't seem to remember that Whitestorm and Bluestar are related, but I'd just chalk it up to them not reading ****_Bluestar's Prophecy_****. And yeah, I know cats can't ****_actually _****cry, but I'm humanizing them a little. I mean, the entire concept of Warriors is pretty unrealistic, so...**

**AtlierSky: Glad you enjoyed! Whitestorm was always a wise character in canon, so I decided to try to keep him as in character as possible. Someone needs to keep Firepaw in line, after all. And yeah, poor Thrushpelt...but at least he gets to see his son in StarClan.**

* * *

The following morning, Firepaw was awake at the crack of dawn. Silently, careful not to wake any of his denmates, he crept out of the apprentices' den and into the camp. To his slight surprise, several other warriors, including Bluestar, Whitestorm, Tigerclaw, Redtail, and Lionheart, were already awake and conversing near the warriors' den. Firepaw's eyes then traveled to the fresh-kill pile, which was still reasonably full even after last night. The ginger tom hesitated for a moment, then decided against taking a piece. He didn't even know if he was allowed to eat, and besides, he was never particularly hungry in the morning anyway. Stretching his legs, he walked over to the other warriors, who greeted him with a friendly wave of their tails. Well, Bluestar, Lionheart, Redtail, and Whitestorm were friendly; Tigerclaw merely stared at him with a cool, calculating look in his amber eyes.

"Good morning," Bluestar meowed, her eyes soft and warm as they gazed at Firepaw. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," Firepaw meowed politely, dipping his head.

"So you're the new apprentice?" Tigerclaw asked, looking the smaller cat up and down. His tone wasn't hostile, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. "Well, at least you have the sense to be punctual, unlike your denmates."

Firepaw gave a start. "Do you really get started on training so early in the day?" he asked, shocked. "It's barely even light out!"

"There's a lot that needs to get done. The sooner we get started, the better," Redtail meowed firmly, with nods of agreement from the other cats.

That made sense to Firepaw, so he nodded as well. "I guess it's lucky that I'm used to waking up around this time, then," he meowed nonchalantly.

"What do you mean?" Lionheart asked curiously. "You were a kittypet, weren't you? What reason could you possibly have for wanting to wake up at dawn?"

"Actually, it was _because _I was a kittypet that I learned to wake up early," Firepaw answered. At Lionheart's questioning gaze, he elaborated, "The other kittypets in Twolegplace always slept until the sun was high in the sky, so I started waking up at dawn so I could have a few hours to myself before they started pestering me."

"You didn't like them?" Redtail asked, sounding surprised.

Firepaw pondered the question for a moment, then replied, "I wouldn't say I _disliked_ the other kittypets, but it was just...boring. The only cats who were any fun at all were the other kits, and even they were tiresome since they only ever played the same stupid games and told the same boring stories. Honestly, I can't tell you how many times I heard the story about the wild cats who eat live animals and line their nests with bones. And then, as they got a little older, their Twolegs would take them to the vet to be altered, after which they would be even _less _fun than before, as hard as that might be to believe. There was one tom...er, what was his name again? Oh, who cares, either way, there was some tom who refused to do anything but eat and sleep. He was a deep sleeper too–I tried to whack him over the head with a stick once, and he didn't even twitch."

The other warriors gave snorts of laughter at Firepaw's story. Even Tigerclaw was unable to prevent his whiskers from twitching in amusement. Firepaw inwardly smirked at this, oddly satisfied that he had managed to get the great dark tabby to laugh at something. Although he barely knew Tigerclaw, Firepaw guessed that he didn't find many things funny.

"I see the others are awake now," Redtail noted, glancing in the direction of the apprentices' den.

Turning his head, Firepaw saw that the ThunderClan deputy was right. Sandpaw, Graypaw, Ravenpaw, and Dustpaw had crawled out of their nests and were approaching them from the other side of the camp. When they saw Firepaw, Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw bounded over to him eagerly. Dustpaw, however, approached more slowly, a scowl on his face.

"Hey, Firepaw!" Graypaw meowed excitedly. "Ready for your first day of training?"

"I am," Firepaw meowed tersely, wishing that the gray tom would curb his excitement a little. _Does he seriously need to shout all the time? _

"Don't be nervous, you'll do just fine," Sandpaw meowed, apparently having taken his curtness for worry. Firepaw didn't feel the need to correct her and simply nodded.

"Thanks, Sandpaw," he replied, softening his tone a little.

"Yeah, just don't get in the way of the _real _warriors, kittypet," Dustpaw sneered bitterly.

"Good morning to you too, Dustpaw," Firepaw meowed calmly. The other apprentices snickered and Bluestar, who had given Dustpaw an oddly sharp look for his degrading remark, twitched her whiskers as though she was suppressing a laugh of her own.

"What are we doing today, Whitestorm?" Sandpaw asked her mentor eagerly.

"You and I will be taking a tour of ThunderClan territory along with Bluestar, Firepaw, Lionheart, and Graypaw," the large white warrior meowed. "Dustpaw, Ravenpaw, your mentors will be taking you on a hunting mission."

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" Graypaw asked, taking off towards the camp entrance. "Come on, Firepaw! Race you to the Owl Tree!"

Firepaw didn't bother telling Graypaw that he had no idea what or where this "Owl Tree" he spoke of was. Instead, he shook his head exasperatedly and walked to the gorse tunnel with Sandpaw and their mentors at his side. He was seriously going to need Graypaw to calm down if he wanted to get through the day without a splitting headache.

* * *

ThunderClan's territory turned out to be far more expansive than Firepaw had anticipated. Despite this, the flame-colored apprentice barely felt tired at all even after traipsing around all morning. How could he, when there was just so much to see? He was beginning to understand why Graypaw was so energetic all the time, although that didn't make him any less wearying in Firepaw's eyes.

"We won't go any further than this, but we're at Sunningrocks now," Lionheart meowed, stopping a few fox-tails from the base of a mass of large stones near the edge of a river.

As Firepaw stared at the rocks in awe, he noticed a few cats climbing out of the river and onto Sunningrocks, lying down and basking in the sunlight. They were a bit plumper than the ThunderClan cats, and their pelts were sleek and glossy.

"Who are those cats?" he asked curiously.

"RiverClan warriors," Lionheart growled, glaring at the sunbathing cats with something akin to hatred in his eyes. "Sunningrocks belongs to them, and they never miss an opportunity to gloat about it."

"It belongs to RiverClan?" Firepaw repeated, confused. "But it's on our territory."

"You're right about that, but ThunderClan and RiverClan have been fighting over Sunningrocks for as long as I can remember," Whitestorm meowed. "A long time ago, it used to be in the middle of the river instead of on our bank, and only RiverClan could reach it. But the river changed course, and suddenly Sunningrocks was right in the middle of ThunderClan territory. Of course, RiverClan wasn't too keen on the idea of giving the rocks up. I'd estimate that most of our battles have been over the ownership of Sunningrocks."

Personally, Firepaw didn't see why RiverClan even needed Sunningrocks at all. From what he could tell, the only thing they wanted it for was to sunbathe on the rocks. They reminded him of the kittypets he used to live with. It was hard to believe that anyone could believe that these fat, lazy water cats were fierce, vicious savages who chewed the bones of dead animals.

"Come on, let's get moving. Nothing good can come of us staying here," Bluestar meowed, interrupting Firepaw's thoughts.

They veered off deeper into their own territory, leaving the RiverClan warriors to sunbathe in peace. As they walked, Firepaw noticed that Bluestar kept glancing at him when she thought he wasn't looking, the same look of sorrow he'd seen the previous night in her icy blue eyes. He wanted to ask her what was bothering her, but he couldn't very well do so with the others in earshot.

By the time they returned to camp, it was nearly sunset. Firepaw was tempted to curl up in the apprentices' den and take a short nap, but Sandpaw had other ideas. Before he was even halfway through the fern bush when she dropped a rabbit at his paws.

"Nice try, Firepaw, but you're not sleeping until you've eaten," the pale ginger molly meowed sternly. "I know you didn't eat this morning, and you can't just go an entire day without food. You need to keep your strength up, you know."

"If you insist," Firepaw murmured, bending his head to pick up the rabbit. He carried it to the mossy stump, where Ravenpaw and Dustpaw were eating a wood mouse and a pigeon, respectively. He wondered where Graypaw was, then shrugged it off. Ravenpaw nodded to him through a mouthful of his mouse, while Dustpaw glared and pointedly turned his back.

"Friendly, isn't he?" Sandpaw joked quietly. Dustpaw's shoulders tensed and he gave a huff of irritation.

However, Firepaw didn't have time to worry about what was bothering his denmate, nor did he particularly care. Tucking his paws underneath his chest, he lay down and started eating his rabbit. He had other things to worry about besides Dustpaw's inexplicable bitterness. If he wanted to hold a grudge for no apparent reason, Firepaw was perfectly content to let him do so.


	10. Sunningrocks

The following evening, Firepaw received his first taste of just how bloodthirsty and cruel Clan life could be.

He was on a border patrol with Ravenpaw, Dustpaw, Tigerclaw, and Redtail, not far from Sunningrocks. At the moment, Ravenpaw was stalking a rabbit that was sniffing through some foliage nearby, while Dustpaw was pointedly ignoring Firepaw. The ginger tom returned the favor, padding after Tigerclaw and Redtail without so much as a backward glance. Perhaps he was being immature, but Firepaw couldn't find it in himself to care. As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything to deserve Dustpaw's hostility. Why should he be polite if Dustpaw wasn't going to make any effort to do the same?

When they arrived at Sunningrocks, as expected, there was a patrol of RiverClan warriors sunbathing on the rocks. Firepaw felt his fur prickle instinctively and saw that his Clanmates had their claws unsheathed. Redtail and Dustpaw's tails were lashing furiously, while Tigerclaw's teeth were bared in a snarl. Even the normally timid Ravenpaw's neck fur was bristling in anger. All of them seemed to have taken the RiverClan warriors' presence as a personal insult, and although he had barely been in the Clan for two sunrises, Firepaw could sympathize with them. Even though Sunningrocks was rich with prey, especially during this particular season, RiverClan clearly had no interest in using it for anything more than a place to take an afternoon nap. It was insulting, not to mention a waste of perfectly good territory.

"We can't stand for this anymore," Tigerclaw growled. "We cannot allow RiverClan to flaunt Sunningrocks in our faces and make us look weak in front of the other Clans. We're taking back the rocks _now_."

Ravenpaw gave a start from beside Firepaw. "Right now?" he meowed.

"Yes, right now," his mentor hissed. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

"N-no, of course not," the black tom meowed quickly. "But will three apprentices and two warriors be enough?"

"Tigerclaw, think about what you're about to do," Redtail meowed urgently. "Firepaw hasn't received any battle training yet. Do you think it's wise to send him into a fight when he hasn't been properly trained? Everyone knows that RiverClan cats are dishonorable; they wouldn't hesitate to kill him if it came down to it. We'll fight for the rocks, but Firepaw needs to stay out of this."

"No!" Firepaw insisted, shaking his head violently. "I–I can fight. _Please_, let me try at least. I have to battle at some point, don't I?"

"It's not about that, young Firepaw," Redtail meowed. "It's irresponsible of Tigerclaw to think of sending you to fight when you haven't been taught how to defend yourself. More skilled warriors than you have been killed in battle before, and I don't think Bluestar would be pleased if she knew we sent her apprentice to die."

"I'm _not _going anywhere!" Firepaw hissed. He knew he shouldn't be talking back to his deputy, but Redtail wasn't giving him much choice. "What else am I supposed to do? I'm too slow; I'd never make it back to camp in time to fetch reinforcements. And I'm sure not going to sit around and watch while everyone else is fighting. I was able to fight Longtail on my first day in ThunderClan. Maybe I'm not trained properly yet, but whatever I've got now will just have to make do."

Redtail stared at him. "Firepaw, you–"

"There's no time," Tigerclaw interrupted. "If Firepaw wants to fight, let him. It will teach him a lesson about Clan life if nothing else."

Redtail looked between the two cats for a moment, then closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "Fine," he meowed. "I hope you know what you're getting us all into, Tigerclaw."

The great dark tabby nodded, then turned to face the RiverClan cats again. Letting out a loud yowl, he sprang upwards and launched himself on top of the nearest one, a massive tom with ginger fur slightly darker than Firepaw's. Redtail, Dustpaw, Ravenpaw, and Firepaw followed suit, and soon the previously warm, peaceful evening was pierced by the haunting screeches of battle. Firepaw found himself locked in a tussle with a dappled golden tabby she-cat. He raked his claws through her fur with as much strength as he could muster, wincing as he felt her jaws clamp down on his shoulder.

As the battle wore on, Firepaw began to realize that perhaps Redtail had been right in telling him that he wasn't ready to fight yet. Nevertheless, he refused to surrender even as he began to grow dizzy from blood loss. To admit defeat now would mean admitting that he wasn't capable of being a warrior, and he refused to allow that to happen after everything he'd done to prove himself to his new Clanmates. He would not give cats like Dustpaw and Longtail the satisfaction of knowing that they had been right about kittypets all along.

"Firepaw, run!" The voice was not Redtail's, but Tigerclaw's, as the massive tabby knocked a gray RiverClan warrior off of the apprentice. "Get out of here!"

Despite every instinct telling him to listen to Tigerclaw and flee, Firepaw shook his head stubbornly and forced himself back to his feet, launching himself at the gray warrior. He heard Tigerclaw let out a hiss of frustration but ignored him as he bit down on the RiverClan tom's leg.

_I can't give up! Not now! I'm not going to act like a coward and run away! _he thought fiercely.

But his wounds were bleeding more heavily than ever, and he was beginning to lose his balance. Another RiverClan warrior pinned him to the ground, easily shaking off all of Firepaw's futile attempts at shaking him off. As his vision began to go black, Firepaw saw the warrior's paw raised in preparation for a death blow.

Then Redtail was there, knocking the tom away from Firepaw. "Get away from him, you RiverClan scum!" he hissed. Turning back to Firepaw, he meowed urgently, "Hold on, Firepaw, alright. Ravenpaw, will you take Firepaw away from here? I think Tigerclaw, Dustpaw, and I can handle the rest of them."

Firepaw never heard Ravenpaw's response, that is, if he gave one at all. Overcome with exhaustion, he closed his eyes and allowed a wave of dizzying blackness to overtake him.


	11. Wrath

Bluestar was sharing a thrush with Lionheart when a cry from Smallear, one of the Clan's elders, caught her ears. Feeling her muscles tense, the blue-gray molly looked up from her meal towards the gorse tunnel, her fur bristling in horror as she took in the sight that greeted her. Ravenpaw was staggering back into the camp, his fur matted with drying blood. Clutched between his teeth was her son, his paws and tail dragging on the ground.

_No...oh, StarClan, no! _

Forgetting all about her dinner, Bluestar bounded over to Ravenpaw, who had placed Firepaw's limp form on the ground. By now, several other cats had noticed the injured apprentice as well, including Firepaw's denmates. Sandpaw gasped in horror while Graypaw looked as if he were about to be sick, his normally playful demeanor nowhere to be seen. Whitestorm stood nearby, his yellow eyes stunned as he stared at Firepaw.

Tentatively, Bluestar touched her nose to her kit's flank, feeling her muscles relax as she felt the faint rise and fall that indicated there was still breath in his body.

_Thank StarClan, _she thought, breathing a silent sigh of relief.

However, there wasn't much time left if she wanted Spottedleaf to have any chance of saving Firepaw. She needed to know what had happened, but her first priority was making sure that her son was in safe paws. Grasping Firepaw's limp body between her teeth as gently as possible, she flicked her tail for Ravenpaw to follow her before turning around and making a beeline for the medicine den. Without even pausing, Bluestar pushed her way through the fern tunnel into the small cave where Spottedleaf was busy sorting herbs.

"Spottedleaf, help him!" she cried, placing Firepaw's body down on the floor of the medicine den.

The pretty tortoiseshell glanced up from her work, freezing in shock when she saw the state Firepaw was in. Almost immediately, however, she was on her paws, gathering cobwebs and an assortment of herbs from her stores. Bluestar stepped back and watched Spottedleaf treat her kit's wounds, feeling her throat beginning to tighten. She shook her head, trying to push her emotions aside. Right now wasn't the time for her to have a breakdown in front of her medicine cat and an apprentice. That could be saved until later if necessary. At the moment, her priority was finding out what had happened to cause her son to become so gravely injured.

"What happened, Ravenpaw?" she asked, turning to the young tom, who was busy licking one of his cuts.

"Tigerclaw–Tigerclaw ordered an attack on RiverClan at Sunningrocks," Ravenpaw meowed nervously, looking as if he expected Bluestar to attack him for his mentor's actions. "We were on a border patrol when we saw a patrol of RiverClan warriors sunbathing on the–on the rocks. Tigerclaw said that he wouldn't stand for them flaunting the rocks in our faces anymore and said that we were going to fight for them right t-then and there. Redtail said not to let Firepaw battle, but Firepaw said that h-he wanted to fight even if he couldn't win. Tigerclaw said to let him, so Firepaw joined the battle. He...he was getting beat up pretty badly, so Redtail told him to run, but he refused. Then a RiverClan warrior was about to kill him, so Redtail knocked him away and told me to take him back here. And...and he passed out, so I came here as fast as possible."

"Tigerclaw sent him into battle?" Bluestar repeated in disbelief. Ravenpaw nodded, shrinking away from the blue-gray queen. "He sent a six-moon-old apprentice with no battle training to fight against RiverClan?"

"Y-yes," Ravenpaw stammered.

Bluestar exhaled through her nose, barely resisting the urge to find Tigerclaw and rip him limb from limb. "Thank you for telling me, Ravenpaw," she meowed, trying to sound gentle. "Once Spottedleaf is finished with Firepaw, get her to look at your wounds. I need to have a word with your mentor."

She waited for Ravenpaw to nod in agreement, then turned and strode out of the medicine den. As soon as she left, she spotted Tigerclaw, Redtail, and Dustpaw walking back into the camp, each covered in a number of bites and scratches. Redtail looked grim, Dustpaw just seemed worn out, but Tigerclaw's head was held high in triumph. It was clear that he felt no remorse over what had happened to Firepaw. Feeling her neck fur rising, Bluestar stalked over to the returning cats, stopping a few tail-lengths from Tigerclaw.

"Tigerclaw," she greeted him, unable to suppress the edge in her mew. "I heard about your little attack on Sunningrocks."

"Yes, Bluestar," the dark tabby meowed, a smug gleam in his eyes. "Thanks to our efforts, ThunderClan has reclaimed what is rightfully ours. A great victory has been won today."

"Great? _Great?_" Bluestar hissed, losing her temper. "You call this great?! My apprentice almost _died _today because of you! He's in Spottedleaf's den right now, unconscious because you thought it was a _brilliant _idea to bring an apprentice that's only been training for _two bloody days _into battle! For StarClan's sake, he doesn't even know the most basic of fighting moves yet! What were you _thinking_, bringing him into battle like that?"

Although he easily dwarfed her, Tigerclaw shrunk back at his Clan leader's anger. "He wanted to fight, Bluestar, and who are we to refuse him? All apprentices go into battle at some point."

"Yes, but not until they're capable of defending themselves!" Bluestar spat. "What you did today was _completely _irresponsible, Tigerclaw. You're cleaning out the elders' den for a moon, and if Firepaw dies because of this, you _will _be exiled. You can mark my words on that."

Without waiting for a response, she spun around and stalked back towards the medicine den, pushing her way through the fern tunnel. Inside, Spottedleaf was sorting herbs again while glancing occasionally at Firepaw, who was still unconscious and covered in cobwebs and herbs. She glanced up at Bluestar as she entered, her amber eyes soft with sympathy as the blue-gray queen settled herself beside her kit.

"Will he be okay?" Bluestar whispered, almost afraid of what the answer would be.

"Of course he will," Spottedleaf meowed gently. "He just needs a few days, and then he'll be back to normal. Have faith, Bluestar. Firepaw is a strong cat."

Bluestar nodded and gently licked her son's forehead, one of the only spots on his body that wasn't covered in cobwebs. "Stay with me, darling," she begged softly.

_Stay here with me, please...I can't promise that nothing will ever happen to you again, but I promise I'll do anything I can to protect you._

* * *

**Two chapters in one day? You guys are lucky, haha. I'll work on something for Bitter Repercussions later. **

**Bluestar is PISSED...and rightly so too. Hopefully Tigerclaw learns his lesson, although, let's be honest, he never seems to learn anything. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	12. A Worthy Warrior

It was well past moonhigh, but Bluestar still remained in the medicine den, keeping a watchful eye over her son. He hadn't stirred at all since being brought into Spottedleaf's den, and she refused to leave until she knew for certain that he was going to be alright. Bluestar knew that she had her duties to take care of in the morning, of course, but she couldn't sleep knowing that her kit was so gravely injured.

_Please, StarClan, don't take him too, _she begged silently. _I already lost Mosskit, Mistyfoot, and Stonefur. Don't take Firepaw from me. _

Even though Spottedleaf had reassured her that Firepaw would recover, Bluestar still couldn't bring herself to share her optimism. She was so used to not having things go her way that she automatically assumed the worst would happen. At least that way, if a tragedy were to befall her or ThunderClan, she wouldn't be taken by surprise. Finding Firepaw again after five moons of believing him to be dead had been nothing short of a miracle, and Bluestar knew that her good fortune had, in all likelihood, run out for at least the next moon.

"My brave little warrior," Bluestar murmured, letting out a soft sigh. "Why do you always seem to get into trouble?"

Part of her wanted to take her kit back to Twolegplace, where she knew he would be well cared for, not to mention safe from the hardships of Clan life. But she refused, and not only because she was selfish enough to want Firepaw where she could still see and talk to him every day. It was clear that he had been unhappy living as a kittypet, and she couldn't imagine sending him back to a life that he'd been miserable in. What sort of mother would she be if she forced her son to leave right after she'd accepted him into the Clan? Furthermore, how could she live with herself if she abandoned her own kit?

_Oh, Firepaw, I'm so sorry..._

"Huh...wha–Bluestar? Is that you?"

Bluestar snapped her head up, freezing in shock when she saw a pair of tired emerald eyes blinking up at her. Feeling her throat tighten, she pressed her muzzle gently against Firepaw's forehead, purring with happiness and relief. She could feel her son resting his head against her chest and began grooming his fur, careful to avoid his injuries.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

"Not too great," Firepaw admitted with a visible wince. "But I'll survive."

"I heard about what happened today," Bluestar meowed, pausing in her grooming to give her son a stern look. "Firepaw, why did you join the battle when you haven't been trained to fight yet? Furthermore, why didn't you run when you were ordered to? You could have died, for StarClan's sake!"

Firepaw shrunk back slightly. "I had to," he defended himself. "If I didn't fight, others would have seen it as proof that I don't belong here! And I bet a real warrior wouldn't run from a battle."

"That's not true, Firepaw. We _never _send apprentices into battle without proper training," Bluestar meowed. "And part of being a warrior means knowing when you've been beaten. You can't just keep fighting until you either collapse or get killed by an enemy warrior. The Clan needs you alive, Firepaw–_I _need you alive. You're a valuable member of ThunderClan, and we can't lose you."

_I can't lose you..._

Firepaw looked startled at the intensity in her voice as she lectured him. "But...I thought you said that the warrior code said we should defend our Clan, even at the cost of our lives," he meowed, his green eyes puzzled.

"It does, but giving up your life for your Clan should _only _happen under the direst of circumstances and only if it's completely unavoidable," she replied firmly. "A fight over a little bit of territory is never worth anyone's life, and certainly not the life of an apprentice."

"Yes, Bluestar, I understand...at least, I think I do," the flame-pelted apprentice meowed slowly. "It's just...how else am I supposed to prove that I belong here? A lot of the Clan are probably just waiting for me to mess up or decide that Clan life is too much for me. Especially Dustpaw and Longtail. If they knew I ran away from a battle, even if I _was _beaten, they'd blame it on the fact that I was born a kittypet and say that I shouldn't be in ThunderClan."

_You weren't born a kittypet! You were born here, in ThunderClan. The only reason you even ended up in Twolegplace was because of Thistleclaw, _Bluestar thought indignantly, but she forced herself to hold her tongue. Instead, she meowed gently, "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, little one. Just serve your Clan well, and no one will ever be able to ask anything more of you."

Firepaw nodded, but still seemed unconvinced. In an attempt to soothe him, Bluestar gently licked his ears and head. The young tom gave a flustered but pleased mew, resting his head against her chest once again and allowing her to comfort him. As he did so, Bluestar felt herself begin to choke up. Even though Firepaw had no idea of what he meant to her, at that moment, all she could see was the tiny kit who had chased after leaves and feathers and pestered the other queens at every opportunity.

She continued her steady, rhythmic licks to her son's head until he began to yawn, clearly worn out despite having spent most of the evening unconscious. Bluestar helped him get settled in his temporary nest, purring as he curled himself around his paws, just as he had when he was a one-moon-old kitten.

"Sleep well, Firepaw," she murmured. _I'll come to visit you again later, I promise. _

Giving her kit's fur one final lick, Bluestar rose to her paws and padded towards her den. The sky was beginning to lighten now, so the dawn patrol would be gathering any moment. The blue-gray molly sent a silent prayer of thanks to StarClan that she wasn't on the dawn patrol. After the emotional turmoil of the previous evening, Bluestar wanted nothing more than to curl up in her nest and sleep.


	13. Yellowfang

Unfortunately, Firepaw's injuries turned out to be severe enough that Spottedleaf ordered him to stay in camp for at least a quarter moon. The young tom was frustrated by this, knowing that he was missing out on valuable training time, but Sandpaw, Ravenpaw, and Graypaw did their best to cheer him up and reminded him that he would be out of the camp before he knew it. It didn't completely do the trick, but Firepaw certainly appreciated their efforts.

On the third day, Firepaw had just finished taking fresh-kill to the elders when he noticed Bluestar, Tigerclaw, Redtail, and Dustpaw coming through the gorse tunnel with an unfamiliar molly flanked between them. She had matted gray fur and a broad, flattened face, and her hind leg dragged on the ground as if she'd injured it. However, none of the returning warriors seemed to be sporting any new injuries. Curious, Firepaw started to approach them but stopped when Bluestar gave him a subtle shake of her head before leaping onto the Highrock.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting," she yowled.

Firepaw padded to the edge of the clearing, taking a seat next to Sandpaw. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Dustpaw giving him a sneer before turning away to face Bluestar again. He heard a few of the other warriors murmuring amongst themselves and learned that the newcomer was apparently called Yellowfang. She was, according to Firepaw's Clanmates, ShadowClan's medicine cat.

_I'm not sure I'd want her taking care of me if I ever got sick, _he thought, glancing at her matted, dirty pelt with a grimace. _She looks as if she can barely take care of herself. _

"I'm sure you've all noticed the prisoner we brought back," Bluestar meowed, flicking her tail in Yellowfang's direction. "But there is more still. Can you hear me from there?"

The last question was directed toward Yellowfang, who spat, "I may be old, but I'm not deaf yet!"

Bluestar nodded, pleased despite (or perhaps because of) the enemy queen's hostile tone and continued.

"Today, I traveled with a patrol into WindClan territory. The air was filled with the scent of ShadowClan. Almost every tree had been sprayed by ShadowClan warriors, and we met no WindClan cats even though we journeyed deep into their territory."

Her words were met with silence. Firepaw glanced around at the confused faces of his Clanmates.

"Do you mean ShadowClan has driven them out?" Smallear called hesitantly.

"We can't be sure," Bluestar meowed. "Certainly the scent of ShadowClan was everywhere. We found blood too, and fur. There must have been a battle, though we found no bodies from either Clan."

Shocked yowls rose from the Clan, and Firepaw felt those around him stiffen with fury. Even amidst his ignorance of Clan life, he guessed that a Clan driving another from their hunting grounds was fairly unheard of.

"How can WindClan have been driven out?" One-eye croaked hoarsely. "ShadowClan is fierce, but WindClan is many. They have lived in the uplands for generations. How could they have been chased out now?"

"I don't know the answers to any of your questions," Bluestar replied. "It is well known that ShadowClan has recently appointed a new leader, Brokenstar, following the death of Raggedstar. He gave no hint of any threat when we met him at the last Gathering."

That's right, there had been a Gathering recently, Firepaw remembered. Unfortunately, he had been too injured to attend, not that he would have been chosen anyway. Sandpaw and Dustpaw had gone, though, although neither of them had paid much attention.

"Perhaps Yellowfang has some answers?" Darkstripe snarled. "After all, she is of ShadowClan!"

"I may have left Brokenstar's ShadowClan behind, but I am no traitor! Nothing would make me share any secrets with a brute like you!" Yellowfang growled, glaring at Darkstripe. The dark tabby moved forward, ears flat, eyes narrowed to slits and ready for a fight. Firepaw almost hoped that he would attack just so he could see Yellowfang shred him.

"Stop!" Bluestar yowled.

Darkstripe froze in his tracks, though Yellowfang goaded him on with a ferocious hiss. Firepaw couldn't help admiring her spirit, despite her hostility.

"That's enough," the blue-gray molly growled. "This situation is too serious for us to be fighting among ourselves. ThunderClan must be prepared. From this moonrise onward, warriors will travel in larger groups. Everyone must remain close to the camp. Patrols will travel the boundary edges more frequently, and all kits will stay in the nursery."

The cats below nodded in agreement.

"As for our newcomer, Yellowfang will stay until she is fit enough to travel," Bluestar continued.

"But the Clan cannot support Yellowfang! We have too many mouths to feed," Darkstripe protested, glaring at Firepaw.

Firepaw glared back at him. "Yes? Is there something you need?" he asked coolly.

"No," Darkstripe growled.

"Then find something else to stare at," Firepaw shot back.

"That's enough, Firepaw," Bluestar ordered, though the flame-colored tom noticed that her tone was gentler than when she'd reprimanded Darkstripe earlier. "Now, while you're recovering from your injuries, would you take care of Yellowfang? You would be expected to feed her, tend to her wounds, fetch her fresh bedding, and clear away her dirt. Your fellow apprentices may help if they choose."

"I don't need anyone to care for me," Yellowfang snarled. "And I'll split open anyone who tries!"

Privately, Firepaw couldn't think of anything he'd rather _not _do, but he knew better than to voice his thoughts out loud. Instead, he simply flicked his ear dismissively and replied, "Very well."

"The meeting is over. I would like to speak to my senior warriors alone now," Bluestar meowed, jumping down from the Highrock.

Firepaw stood up and was about to approach Yellowfang (not out of choice, but simply because he'd promised to look after her) when Bluestar suddenly veered toward him. Puzzled, he looked up at his mentor, wondering what she needed to talk to him about now.

"Yellowfang may be a medicine cat, but she is of ShadowClan and if my suspicions about WindClan are correct..." she meowed, then trailed off, shaking her head. Her gaze searched Firepaw's eyes imploringly as she added, "Do be careful, won't you?"

"I will, Bluestar," Firepaw promised, though he couldn't help wondering why she was so concerned. She was an excellent mentor, but sometimes Firepaw felt as though she worried too much about him.

Bluestar nodded and tapped him on the shoulder with her tail before going to speak with her warriors, leaving the young apprentice to prepare himself for his first meeting with the ShadowClan medicine cat prisoner.


	14. The Wrong Foot

_I guess I'd better go see to Yellowfang, _Firepaw thought reluctantly. The ShadowClan prisoner was still lying beneath the Highrock, glaring balefully at him. _StarClan, help me and keep me from clawing anyone's fur off. Preferably hers or my own. _

As he approached the injured queen, his trepidation increased further. She was clearly in a terrible mood, as when he approached, she hissed a warning and bared her teeth.

"Stop right there, kittypet!"

Firepaw frowned, wondering how she knew of his origins when he hadn't even spoken to her. Then he realized that she'd probably heard it in passing, either from his own Clanmates or hers, depending on how long ago she'd left ShadowClan. He groaned to himself; if this was how things were going to go, he might as well just turn around now and go share a mouse with Sandpaw.

"Call me whatever you like," he meowed tersely. "I'm just following Bluestar's orders."

"You _are _a kittypet though, aren't you?" Yellowfang wheezed.

_She's tired too, _Firepaw noted. There was less fire in her voice, though her spite was as strong as ever. Out loud, he replied, "I used to live with Twolegs when I was a kitten, yes."

"Your mother a kittypet? Your father a kittypet?"

"No, actually my father was a flying squirrel–_yes, they were both kittypets_," Firepaw meowed, scowling. It was bad enough that he still had to deal with side glances and snide remarks from his own Clanmates. He certainly didn't need this bedraggled hag adding onto his troubles. Unfortunately for him, Yellowfang seemed to take his silence as an invitation to go on.

"Kittypet blood ain't the same as warrior blood. Why don't you run home to your Twolegs now instead of looking after me? It's humiliating, being fussed over by a lowborn cat like _you_!"

Firepaw lashed his tail.

"You'd feel humiliated even if I _were _warrior born," he pointed out. "You'd feel ashamed whether I was a precious she-cat from your Clan or a wretched Twoleg that picked you up off the ground. It's the fact that you need to rely on_ any _cat that you find so humiliating!"

Yellowfang stared at him, her orange eyes wide.

"Though believe me, I have no intention of _fussing over you_," Firepaw continued, forcing his voice, which had begun steadily rising in volume, to lower to a respectable decibel. "I'm simply here to take care of your needs until...well, until whatever Bluestar decides to do with you, so you might as well get used to it. Now, _if _you don't mind, just let me know whatever I need to get for you, or else being in the care of a pathetic kittypet warrior such as myself will only be the _second _worst thing that happens to you today!"

Yellowfang began to emit a low wheezing sound. Firepaw stared at the old gray cat in alarm. Was she having some sort of fit?

Then, he realized that she was _laughing_.

_I'm going to hate this job. _

"You have spirit, kittypet," the queen croaked out. "Now, I'm tired and my leg hurts. I need sleep and something to put on this wound. Go and find that pretty little medicine cat of yours and ask her for some herbs. I think you'll find a goldenseal poultice will help. And while you're at it, I wouldn't mind a few poppy seeds to chew on. The pain is killing me!"

Firepaw nodded and raced away. The sooner he could get away from the ill-tempered ShadowClan prisoner, the better–for both their sakes.

* * *

"I've got most of those in my den," Spottedleaf meowed when Firepaw told her what Yellowfang had requested. "Poppy seeds will help you sleep. Goldenseal is a bit like marigold. If she dresses her wound in that, it will help keep off any infection–though I suppose you know that since I used goldenseal to help treat your wounds. Wait here."

"Oh, yeah. Thanks," the flame-colored tom meowed as the tortoiseshell disappeared into her den. A few moments later, Spottedleaf reemerged with a bundle of folded leaves, which she dropped at Firepaw's feet.

"Tell Yellowfang to go easy on the poppy seeds. I don't want her to deaden the pain entirely. A little pain can be useful, as it will help me judge how well she is healing."

"I will, thanks," Firepaw meowed, picking up the bundle with his teeth. "For helping take care of me too, you know, not just for the herbs."

"Of course, young warrior," Spottedleaf purred.

Tigerclaw was sitting outside the warriors' den when Firepaw left Spottedleaf's clearing, but the ginger apprentice barely paid him any attention. He was too busy mentally preparing himself for a second verbal confrontation with Yellowfang. Fortunately for him, she seemed to have lost her fight for the moment and merely twitched her whiskers as he dropped the bundle in front of her.

"Good," she meowed. "Now, before you leave me in peace, find me something to eat. I'm starving!"

Firepaw was tempted to offer to sneak into Twolegplace and find her some of the kittypet slop he used to eat, but even he knew better than to provoke the bad-tempered warrior again. Dipping his head, he padded over to the fresh-kill pile; unfortunately, as his bad luck would have it, he happened to run into Longtail, who was picking out a small thrush.

"Well, if it isn't Bluestar's precious kittypet apprentice," the tabby warrior sneered. "I heard those RiverClan warriors tore quite a bit of your fur off, didn't they? Pity they didn't take a bit more of you. I'd have loved to see you run back to Twolegplace like the mewling kittypet you are!"

"I'm sure you would," Firepaw retorted coolly. "Sad to say for you, I plan to stay for a long time. Bluestar's a great mentor, not that a weakling like _you _would know."

"Excuse me?" Longtail narrowed his eyes.

"You heard what I said," the flame-colored tom meowed calmly–ironically, a direct contrast to the rage and resentment he felt burning inside him. "You're weak. Can't even beat a kittypet with no battle training. And you call yourself a warrior! Who in the name of StarClan mentored _you_?"

"You'd better watch yourself," Longtail blustered. "If Tigerclaw hears that–"

"Oh yes, by all means, run to Tigerclaw because you can't handle an apprentice talking back to you," Firepaw snapped, snatching up a vole and turning around to stalk back over to Yellowfang.

"That's right, kittypet, run back to the hag," the pale tabby warrior sneered. "Don't get yourself into any more trouble."

"Pray tell if it looks like I care in the least what you think right now," Firepaw spat over his shoulder.

He padded over to Yellowfang and dropped the vole off, then turned around and made his way to the apprentices' den. After getting into two arguments in the span of a single day, the only thing Firepaw wanted to do was curl up in his nest and sleep for at least three days–or four, depending on how long it took to curb his desire to claw Longtail's other ear.


	15. Kits and Ticks

Three sunrises had passed since Yellowfang arrived at the ThunderClan camp. On the fourth morning, Firepaw was awake before the rest of his denmates as usual, even though it would be a while before he had to leave to take care of Yellowfang. His injuries were slowly healing, but it would still be some time until he was able to resume training. Sighing, he prodded Sandpaw with his forepaw, who woke up with a yawn.

"Wake up," he whispered. "It's past dawn."

"Huh? Oh, thanks Firepaw," Sandpaw meowed, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Stretching her back legs, she padded out of the den with Firepaw as the rest of the apprentices began to stir.

"So, another day of looking after that mangy fleabag, Firepaw?" Dustpaw jeered, stalking past him towards the fresh-kill pile. "I guess Bluestar must think that kittypets are better off in camp, tending to the sick."

"Oh, leave him alone, Dustpaw," Graypaw snapped, emerging from the den behind the brown tabby. "Just because you can't get over the fact that he's a better warrior than you doesn't give you the right to be a mouse-brained brat."

Dustpaw snorted derisively. "Him? A better warrior than me?" he asked incredulously. "Not a chance. Kittypets can't be real warriors."

_And I suppose you think talking makes you a real warrior, do you? _Firepaw thought to himself. Out loud, he meowed, "You know, Dustpaw, you are living proof that there are some things even a mother couldn't love."

Dustpaw glared at him, but Sandpaw, Ravenpaw, and Graypaw all laughed. Shaking his head at his friends, Firepaw padded over to the fresh-kill pile and picked up a mouse. He glanced over at Yellowfang, wondering if he should take it over to her, then decided against it. It was still early in the day, and he guessed that the bad-tempered medicine cat wouldn't thank him for waking her up. He carried his mouse back to the mossy stump where he and the rest of the apprentices ate, taking a seat next to Sandpaw.

"Want to share?" he offered.

"Sure," Sandpaw purred, her green eyes glowing. Graypaw and Ravenpaw's whiskers twitched with amusement, while Dustpaw scowled even more fiercely than usual. Firepaw wondered why that was, then decided he didn't have time for trivial gossip.

After he finished his meal, Firepaw glanced over to where Yellowfang was sleeping. From his vantage point, he could see her beginning to stir, so he meowed a quick farewell to Sandpaw and went to take the gray queen her breakfast. Picking up a vole, he carried it over to Yellowfang, who was watching him with an impatient look in her orange eyes. She had developed quite the appetite since her injury started healing, and Firepaw was almost certain that, had she been given the chance, she would have eaten half of ThunderClan. Perhaps, if he were lucky enough, she would start by eating Longtail first.

It occurred to Firepaw that he should probably be careful what he wished for.

Once Yellowfang had finished her meal, she complained, "The base of my tail itches like fury, but I can't reach it. Give it a wash, will you?"

With an inward shudder, Firepaw set to work. As he cracked the plump fleas between his teeth, he was surprised when Yellowfang began speaking to him again.

"You know, you seem awfully thin for a kittypet," she meowed. "I thought all kittypets were supposed to be fat, lazy slobs."

_I thought all medicine cats knew how to take care of themselves, _Firepaw wanted to retort. Instead, he meowed, "Most are, yes. But there are exceptions to every rule. You of all cats should know that."

He half-expected Yellowfang to be offended by the thinly veiled insult, but instead, the gray queen simply replied, "Quite right you are, kittypet. Though if I might ask, why _are _you half-starved? Surely your Twolegs must have fed you."

"They did," Firepaw confirmed. "But I hated the food they gave me because it tasted like rabbit droppings. Problem is, that was the only food I had since I couldn't hunt."

Yellowfang gave an almost good-natured chuckle. "You know, kittypet, perhaps you're not as mouse-brained as I thought you were."

A few fox-tails away, a few of the kits were tumbling and play-fighting near the nursery. Firepaw glanced over at one of them, a dark gray molly with blue eyes, as she pounced on her brother, a golden tabby tom. Two other kits nearby, another tabby and a gray and white kit, were also scuffling with each other. Yellowfang glanced over at the kits, and Firepaw was surprised to feel her spine stiffen beneath his teeth.

"Feel my teeth, Brokenstar!" the tabby meowed, pinning down the gray and white kit.

"Kits," Firepaw chuckled, half to himself. Although he never had much of a chance to visit the nursery, he liked the youngest members of ThunderClan. They were happy to mind their own business instead of mocking him about his kittypet origins.

"They'd better stay away," Yellowfang growled, and Firepaw was startled at the ferocity in her mew.

"You don't like kits?" he asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. He knew that Yellowfang couldn't have kits of her own, being a medicine cat, but he'd thought that everyone liked kits.

"No," the old medicine cat answered. "But accidents seem to happen to kits when I'm around them."

Her orange eyes clouded with emotion. Firepaw wondered what she meant, but decided against asking her. Instead, he continued cracking fleas and ticks while keeping one eye on the gang of kits. There were a few times when they came dangerously close to the Highrock, but they always managed to stay out of Yellowfang's reach. He suspected that their mother (or mothers, if born to different queens) had warned them to stay clear of the ShadowClan prisoner.

"I think I'm going to have to ask Spottedleaf for something to get rid of the rest of the ticks," he meowed after a while, eyeing a few stubborn mites irritably.

"You do that," Yellowfang meowed. "Ask her for some mouse bile. A good whiff of that, and they'll soon loosen their grips."

Firepaw nodded and raced away towards the medicine den. As he approached the fern tunnel that led to Spottedleaf's cave, it occurred to him just how little he knew about healing. He wondered if perhaps he should ask Spottedleaf for a few lessons on herbs. Even though he wasn't training to be a medicine cat, it couldn't hurt to have the extra knowledge–and besides, it would give him a way to fill his free time when he wasn't taking care of Yellowfang.

"Hi," he meowed, pushing his way through the fern tunnel. "Could I have some mouse bile for Yellowfang's ticks?"

"In a moment," replied Spottedleaf, mixing together two piles of sweet-smelling herbs.

"What are those herbs?" Firepaw asked curiously, settling himself down in her den. _If I'm going to learn about medicine, now's as good a time to start as ever. _

"Mint and rosemary," the pretty tortoiseshell meowed. "I want to be prepared for any casualties, and these herbs can be used to mask the scent of death."

Firepaw suppressed an inward shudder–was she truly that convinced that warriors were going to die soon? It seemed that the Clan was more worried about the threat of ShadowClan than he'd realized. Then, he shook himself irritably. He was a warrior; he wasn't going to let himself be scared of dying as if he were some sort of coward.

"Right," Spottedleaf meowed finally. "What did you say you wanted again? Mouse bile?"

"Yes, please," he replied.

She nodded and bounded into her den, emerging a few heartbeats later with a piece of moss stuck to the end of a thin strip of bark. Firepaw took the bark from her, a horrid stench filling his nostrils as he grasped it between his teeth. His disgust must have shown on his face, for Spottedleaf gave a purr of amusement.

"The moss is soaked in bile," she explained. "Dab some of that onto Yellowfang's ticks, but do be careful not to get any in your mouth. Once you're done, make sure to wash your paws in a stream."

Firepaw nodded and half turned away before he remembered his plan. "Oh, I almost forgot," he meowed. "Could I ask you a favor?"

"Of course, Firepaw. What is it?" Spottedleaf asked.

"Well, I know I'm not a medicine cat apprentice, but...do you think you could teach me a little about herbs?" he asked, scuffling his paws against the den floor. "I need some way to pass the time before I'm allowed out of the camp again."

"It would be my pleasure," Spottedleaf meowed warmly. "I'll tell you what. In the evenings, after you've finished your meal, come to my den and I'll teach spend some time teaching you about medicine."

"I will, Spottedleaf. Thanks," Firepaw meowed, dipping his head to her before turning and padding out of the medicine clearing.

He walked back over to Yellowfang, glancing in the direction of the nursery as he passed by. The tabby kit and the gray and white kit had both gone back inside, but the dark gray molly and the golden tabby were still playing outside. To his surprise, he saw the molly pause in her mock battle and look over at him. He waved his tail in greeting, which seemed to delight the young kitten.

Yellowfang had observed the entire exchange, and as Firepaw sat down to rid her of the last of her ticks, she meowed, "So, you're friends with the kits, eh?"

"I like them," Firepaw meowed, flicking his tail. "They're not obnoxious, stuck up idiots like some of the warriors."

"But they get in the way of everyone," she complained.

"Sometimes," the flame-colored tom agreed. "But if I had to choose between having a kit roll over my paws and listening to Longtail complain about me being a kittypet, I'd choose the kits any day."

"Fair point," Yellowfang conceded. Firepaw noticed that she didn't make any justification for Longtail's kittypet jibes. He silently thanked StarClan for small miracles.

Once he was finished with Yellowfang's ticks, Firepaw stood up and walked towards the camp entrance, intent on finding the nearest stream as quickly as possible. Before he could reach the gorse tunnel, however, he stopped as he heard Bluestar calling out to him. He turned around to see his mentor approaching him from her den, a curious look in her blue eyes.

"Where are you off to, Firepaw?" she asked.

"I've just finished putting mouse bile on Yellowfang's ticks," he explained.

Bluestar's whiskers twitched with amusement. "Ah, so you're off to the nearest stream," she guessed. "Well, why don't I come along with you? I'll want to make sure you stay out of trouble."

There she went again with her overprotectiveness. However, Firepaw just nodded and meowed, "Okay."

As they padded through the forest, Firepaw was consciously aware of Bluestar's gaze trained on him. Sparing her a quick glance, he saw that she had a look of pride shining in her icy blue eyes. He wondered why; it wasn't as if he'd done anything spectacular recently. Sometimes, he didn't think he would ever understand what went on in his leader's head.

"How have your injuries been feeling?" Bluestar asked, watching as her apprentice slipped into the stream to wash his paws.

"Still a little sore, but definitely better," Firepaw replied honestly. "How long do you think I'll have until I can start training again?"

"Perhaps a few days," the blue-gray queen meowed. "I don't want you to risk aggravating your wounds again."

Firepaw merely flicked his tail, not as disappointed as he would have been if he hadn't found a way to occupy himself while his injuries were healing. His paws now thoroughly washed, he climbed out of the stream, shaking a few droplets of water out of his fur.

"Watch it, I don't need a wash," Bluestar meowed as a few droplets splattered her pelt.

"Sorry, Bluestar," he mumbled apologetically, and she licked his ears affectionately. "Now, before you head back home, why don't we hunt along the way? It would be a good time to teach you a little more about hunting techniques."

"Sure," Firepaw agreed at once, eager to learn. _Anything to help me keep up with my denmates. _

"Right," the blue-gray molly meowed. "The first thing you need to know is the hunter's crouch. Keep your body low to the ground with your tail sticking straight out. Make sure your hind legs are ready to leap and your front paws are ready to pounce. Give it a try."

Firepaw did as she instructed, feeling a glow of pride when he felt himself slip immediately into the correct position. He took a few paces forward, then stopped and turned to face Bluestar again. She had a strange look in her eyes, and he felt a twinge of worry. Had he messed something up?

"Was that alright?" he asked anxiously.

"It was more than alright," she meowed. "That was almost perfect. Your pacing will need a small bit of work, but the technique is there. You'll make a fine hunter one day, little one."

"Really?" Firepaw asked hopefully.

"Of course," Bluestar purred. "But that was just the basics. There are a few things you need to know about catching different types of prey..."

For the rest of the trek back to the camp, Firepaw listened as Bluestar taught him all about the different hunting techniques they used in ThunderClan. He even managed to catch a mouse, although Bluestar stopped him from trying to chase a squirrel up a tree.

"You can chase all the squirrels you want once you've been trained a bit more," she meowed sternly.

When they arrived back at the camp, Firepaw bade farewell to his mentor before going to deposit his mouse in the fresh-kill pile. The kits had all gone back inside now, but Sandpaw and the rest of the apprentices were lounging outside the den. He padded over and sat down beside the pale ginger molly, who purred happily and licked his cheek.

"How was training today?" Firepaw asked.

"It was great," Sandpaw meowed. "Whitestorm took me battle training. I got to learn how a real warrior fights."

"That probably would have been useful knowledge against RiverClan," Firepaw meowed, half-joking. Sandpaw rolled her eyes and nudged him playfully.

Dustpaw, as usual, snorted jealously and turned away, but Firepaw didn't care about his denmate's bitterness. He had caught his first mouse today, and soon he would be meeting Spottedleaf to learn about herbs. For the first time in days, things in his life were finally starting to take a turn for the better.


	16. Lesson Number One

"Right," Spottedleaf meowed. "The first thing to know about herbs is what they smell like so you can identify them in the wild, should the need ever arise. I've picked out four different herbs for our lesson today, and I want you to sniff each one in turn."

Firepaw nodded and sniffed tentatively at the first herb, a small pile of jagged green leaves with red-tinted edges. They had a sharp scent to them, and he winced slightly at the burning sensation they left in his nostrils. The smell reminded him slightly of something he'd seen growing in his Twolegs' backyard, but he couldn't quite recall what.

"What's this one?" he asked, lifting his nose and looking up at Spottedleaf again.

"Blackberry leaves," the medicine cat meowed. "They can be found almost anywhere on ThunderClan territory, though they mostly grow in sunny places."

"What do you do with them?" Firepaw asked.

"The leaves are chewed into a pulp that we use to relieve the pain of bee stings," Spottedleaf answered. "Sometimes, we can also use them to measure the size of a kit's paws and judge whether they're growing properly."

Firepaw nodded and sniffed at the second pile of herbs. This one contained several star-shaped pink and blue flowers. The leaves carried a slightly zesty scent, and they had an odd hairy texture that made the fur on the back of his spine prickle in discomfort.

"This one is called borage," Spottedleaf informed him. "It's typically used to help queens produce more milk, but it can also be used to bring down fevers or soothe bad bellies and tight chests. You can find borage just about anywhere in the forest, though, for convenience's sake, there's always a patch growing near the camp."

_Right...so that's blackberry leaves and borage leaves, _Firepaw recited in his head. _Blackberry leaves are used for bee stings, and borage leaves are for producing milk, bringing down fevers, and soothing bad bellies or tight chests. Got it. _

He moved on to the third pile, which contained several small, white flowers with large, yellow centers. This one he recognized almost instantly as a flower he'd seen growing in Twolegplace, although he still had no idea of its medicinal purposes.

"I remember this one!" he exclaimed. "I used to see them in Twolegplace all the time."

"Yes, that is typically where this one grows," Spottedleaf meowed. "These flowers are called chamomile. This is a slightly different type of herb, as we don't use it to heal physical injuries."

"What do you use it for, then?" Firepaw asked curiously.

"Chamomile strengthens the heart and soothes the mind," Spottedleaf replied. "They can also be used to give strength to traveling cats, although it's not an herb we typically add in traveling mixtures. But if a cat is feeling nervous or stressed, we can use chamomile to help calm them."

Firepaw nodded, then turned to sniff at the final pile of herbs, which contained several small, sticky green leaves.

"And this one?" he questioned.

"Thyme," Spottedleaf answered.

"Time? Time for what?" Firepaw meowed in bewilderment.

"No, no. Not time. _Thyme_," Spottedleaf explained patiently. "It's the name of the herb."

Firepaw nodded, although he still had no idea why they had named an herb after time. "I see. And...what does this one do?"

"Its uses are similar to chamomile, actually," the tortoiseshell molly meowed. "We use thyme to soothe anxiety or to calm cats who have gone into shock. Sometimes, if a cat is in a particularly bad state, we mix chamomile and thyme to help ease them."

"Does it happen often?" Firepaw asked, his eyes widening.

"More often than we'd like, although of course, that goes for any ailments," Spottedleaf answered. Firepaw nodded. "Now, before you head off to bed, tell me everything I taught you today."

Firepaw thought for a moment, screwing up his face in concentration. "The herbs you showed me today are blackberry leaves, borage, chamomile, and thyme," he recited slowly. "Blackberry leaves are used for bee stings, and borage is used to help produce milk, bring down fevers, and soothe bad bellies and tight chests. Chamomile is used to strengthen the heart and soothe the mind, and thyme is used to calm anxiety or shock. And if necessary, chamomile and thyme can be mixed to produce a stronger mixture for more severe cases."

"Well done," Spottedleaf purred, and he felt a glow of pride. "You learn quickly. Now, off to bed with you. I'll see you tomorrow evening for our second lesson."

"Good night, Spottedleaf. Thank you," Firepaw meowed respectfully, dipping his head and padding out of the medicine den.

As he padded towards the apprentices' den, he became aware of a pair of eyes watching him from the warriors' den. Curious, he turned his head to see Tigerclaw staring at him, although in the darkness, he could only make out the glow of his amber orbs. He felt his pelt prickle uncomfortably, wondering why the dark tabby felt the need to stare at him. It wasn't as if he was doing anything wrong.

Of course, he wasn't the only one in the Clan who seemed to have a habit of watching him, Firepaw noted. He wondered if Bluestar's almost motherly protectiveness had anything to do with why Tigerclaw was watching him from the warriors' den. It didn't make much sense, granted, but then again, nothing about his mentor's behavior did either. From what he had seen, most mentors didn't feel the need to practically smother their apprentice every time they were wounded in battle.

_With a mentor as overprotective as Bluestar, who needs a mother? _Firepaw thought, chuckling to himself.

Yawning, he padded into the apprentices' den and curled up in his nest. As he settled himself down, Sandpaw opened one eye and purred softly, drawing herself closer to him. He brushed his nose against her flank before closing his eyes, silently thanking StarClan that the rest of his denmates were asleep. The last thing he needed was to hear more teasing from them about his friendship with Sandpaw.

He was a part-time medicine cat apprentice, his mentor was treating him like a kit, Tigerclaw had taken to staring at him from the warriors' den, and his denmates were apparently convinced that there was something going on between him and Sandpaw. It was hard to believe that, not even a moon ago, he had been living as a kittypet, with no purpose in his life except to wonder why his food tasted like rat droppings.


	17. Assessment

Although he was allowed to start training again the next day, Firepaw continued taking care of Yellowfang and taking medicine lessons from Spottedleaf during his free time. He even managed to find some time to play with the kits, much to the delight of the small gray molly, whose name he soon learned was Cinderkit. At first, he was uncertain about whether the queens would want him near their kits, but they seemed to appreciate the attention he was giving them.

About half a moon after he was allowed to resume training, Firepaw was informed by Bluestar one morning that he was going to be assessed on his hunting skills.

"An–an assessment?" he squeaked, certain that he must have heard her wrong somehow. There was no way he'd stand a chance at passing an assessment. He'd barely been training, for StarClan's sake!

"Yes, an assessment," Bluestar meowed gently. "Don't worry, Firepaw. I know you'll do just fine."

Firepaw shook his head. "Bluestar, I _can't_," he protested. "I'm not ready. I've barely been training, you know that. I'll never be able to pass. Please, can't we just postpone it? Wait for another moon or something."

"I'm sorry, but we need to keep the training of all apprentices moving as quickly as possible," the blue-gray queen meowed softly. "But you don't have to worry. You're going to do just fine, and even if you don't, there will be other assessments."

Firepaw tried to calm his nerves. Bluestar was right, after all. It was just one little assessment. He could afford to fail one assessment and still become a warrior.

But he _never _allowed himself to fail.

"You don't understand," he meowed desperately. "I _have _to pass. I can't let myself fail an assessment."

"Why not?" she asked. "Everyone fails at something. Even I didn't pass all of my assessments on the first try. No one is perfect, Firepaw."

"I–I know," Firepaw meowed defensively, staring down at his paws. "But...it's just..."

"What's wrong?" Bluestar inquired, resting her tail-tip on his shoulder.

Firepaw struggled to find the words to express himself. "Well, the other apprentices told me that it was an honor to be trained by you since you don't usually take on apprentices," he meowed. "And you brought me into the Clan even though you knew the rest of the Clan wouldn't be pleased about a kittypet joining, and you've spent so much time trying to train me, and if I fail this assessment..."

"Then you think you'll disappoint me if you do," Bluestar finished for him. Firepaw nodded, feeling his pelt burn with embarrassment and shame, which only increased when his mentor rested her muzzle on his forehead. "Firepaw, please believe that I'm speaking with full honesty when I say that you could _never _disappoint me. Not ever. I don't expect you to be perfect all the time. If I did, what sort of mentor would I be? Apprentices need to be allowed to make mistakes. If you don't, then how will you ever learn?"

"But _just say_–"

"Then you'll just try again next time, won't you?" she meowed. "It doesn't matter if you don't pass every test you're given. As long as you try your best, I'll be proud of you no matter what."

Firepaw hesitated for a moment, the temptation to run and hide in the apprentices' den still prickling at his fur. Bluestar's promise that she would always be proud of him certainly _sounded _sincere, but he didn't quite feel reassured. Even though she claimed that he wouldn't be disappointing her if he failed his assessment, he knew how bad it would make both of them look if he did.

On the other hand, though...what would the Clan say if he didn't take part in the assessment at all? Failing was one thing, but not even trying? No, no, that wouldn't do at all. Backing out was what a weak, scared kit would do, not a ThunderClan warrior–and certainly not one who was trained by the leader herself.

"Alright," he meowed at last. "Alright, I'll take my assessment."

* * *

Bluestar sent him towards Sunningrocks for his hunting assessment. Firepaw padded through the forest, his senses on high alert for any sign of prey. He had already managed to catch two mice, but he knew that he would need to catch a lot more in order to pass.

Despite his mentor's earlier talk, or perhaps because of it, Firepaw was more determined than ever to pass his assessment. Unfortunately, he didn't know exactly what would qualify as "passing" since he hadn't bothered to ask. He just knew that he'd have to do a lot better than two measly little mice.

_Maybe I could catch a fish, _he thought, laughing to himself. He wasn't entirely sure why, as it wasn't a particularly amusing thought. Perhaps his nerves were making him stupid. Then his fur stood up as he caught a whiff of prey a few fox-tails away. _Rabbit! _

The flame-colored apprentice scanned the surrounding undergrowth until he spotted a large rabbit munching on some berries nearby. He froze, momentarily stunned by its sheer size. It was easily the biggest rabbit he'd ever seen, nearly almost as big as he was. Granted, he wasn't a particularly large cat, but even so, it was impressive for a rabbit to be this large.

Firepaw's fur prickled with excitement. If he could catch this rabbit, surely it would be enough for him to pass his assessment. Amidst his enthusiasm, however, he realized that he would need to take extra caution not to be heard. Rabbits already had sensitive hearing, and this one's ears were easily twice as large as the average hare. Silently, he dropped into the hunting crouch, making sure to keep his tail stiff and straight. Slowly, painstakingly, he began to creep forward.

_Almost there. _

Just a few more tail-lengths now.

_Getting closer. _

The rabbit lifted its head. Firepaw froze, then breathed an inward sigh of relief as his prey went back to eating.

_Let's keep moving. _

A few more steps and he'd be able to make the leap.

_Now!_

Firepaw sprang forward, pouncing on the rabbit with his claws outstretched. Before the hare had any time to react, he killed it with a swift bite to its neck.

_Yes! _

Firepaw lifted his head, the rabbit still clutched in his jaws, feeling a glow of triumph at his success. He had done it! He had actually managed to catch the rabbit–and one that looked as though it could feed at least half the Clan as well. Surely, he would pass his assessment now.

Then he shook his head, trying to refocus himself on the task at hand. Catching the rabbit was fine and all, but there was still more prey to be caught before he had to return to the camp. Placing the rabbit down, he buried his fresh-kill before bounding off in the direction of Sunningrocks, suddenly feeling much more confident than he had earlier that day.

* * *

**Go Firepaw! I decided not to include his run-in with Smudge since they're not best friends in this story, so he has no reason to share tongues with him. It also plays into the changes I'm making to Tigerclaw's character, but I won't provide too many spoilers for that. **

**Hope you enjoyed! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	18. The Gathering

Firepaw returned to camp with his head held high, or at least as high as he could hold it with the massive rabbit dangling from his jaws.

"Whoa, look at the rabbit Firepaw's got!" Cinderkit squealed, racing over to her friend. "Did you really catch that yourself?"

"Yes," Firepaw admitted, feeling his pelt prickle with embarrassment. He didn't want to sound as though he were bragging.

Cinderkit's eyes shone. "Wow! You're so cool!"

"Why, thank you," Firepaw meowed, and the young kit purred happily.

"Well done, Firepaw," Bluestar meowed, padding over to join them. Her blue eyes were glowing with pride as she licked her apprentice's forehead. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

Firepaw purred, warmed by his mentor's praise. Although, he wished that they would let him put his rabbit down now. It was starting to weigh down on him slightly.

"Go ahead and add that to the fresh-kill pile," Bluestar meowed, as though she could read his thoughts. "And then feel free to take a piece while you wait for your denmates."

"I've still got more left to take back," he meowed through a mouthful of fur.

"I'll send someone to gather the rest of your catch," she replied. "You look as if you'll collapse if I make you go out again."

Firepaw couldn't deny that he was feeling a bit worn out, so he flicked his tail and replied, "Okay, Bluestar."

He walked over to the fresh-kill pile, Cinderkit bounding alongside him the whole way. Sometimes, he wondered how it was that kits could have so much energy, although he guessed it had something to do with being cooped up in the camp all day. On the other hand, they _did _seem to be playing all the time.

"I can't wait until _I _get to be an apprentice too!" she meowed enthusiastically. "But Frostfur said it won't be for another few moons. Can you be my mentor, Firepaw? I want to be as good a hunter as you someday!"

"There are other cats who are better hunters than I am," he reminded the small gray molly, depositing his rabbit in the fresh-kill pile. "And besides, I'll probably still be an apprentice by the time you reach six moons."

Cinderkit's whiskers drooped slightly.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, licking her ears gently. "I'm sure whoever your mentor is will teach you to be the best hunter in the Clan."

"Okay," Cinderkit meowed, but she still looked disappointed by the knowledge that Firepaw most likely wouldn't be able to train her. "Will you still be my friend, though?"

"Of course," he meowed, and she cheered up again.

A short while later, Firepaw was lounging outside the apprentices' den when Graypaw, Sandpaw, and Ravenpaw came racing over to him. Dustpaw followed behind, looking oddly subdued for some reason. The ginger tom wondered what was bothering his rival.

"Firepaw, guess what? Bluestar said we get to go to the Gathering tonight!" Sandpaw meowed eagerly, once she was within earshot.

"Really?" he asked, all feelings of exhaustion suddenly forgotten. She nodded vigorously. "All five of us? We're really going?"

"Well, _four _of us, but yes," the sand-colored molly meowed. At Firepaw's confused look, she added quietly, "Dustpaw isn't going. He got into a bit of trouble with Tigerclaw and Redtail today."

"What happened?" Firepaw asked, glancing over at Dustpaw, who was clearly listening in and doing a very poor job of acting as though their conversation was of little importance to him. He could understand why he might have gotten in trouble with Redtail, but what did he have to do with Ravenpaw's mentor?

It was Ravenpaw who answered. "Dustpaw decided it would be a funny idea to jump me when I was trying to stalk a shrew," he meowed, glaring over at his brother. "I guess Tigerclaw must have seen what happened and told Redtail because both of them gave him a pretty good talking to when we got back."

"Tigerclaw actually stood up for you?" Firepaw meowed in amazement. He didn't know the dark tabby all that well, but he hadn't been under the impression that he was particularly fond of his apprentice.

"I know, we couldn't believe it either," Graypaw interjected. "Dustpaw looked like he'd just sprouted a second head or something."

"We leave for the Gathering soon, so we should probably eat," Sandpaw spoke up again. "Come on, Firepaw, I'll pick out a mouse for us to share."

"Oh, I already ate," Firepaw meowed apologetically. "Sorry," he added to Sandpaw's look of disappointment.

"Oh, it's alright," she sighed. More hopefully, she added, "Will you at least sit with us?"

"Sure," Firepaw agreed, and Sandpaw's eyes lit up.

Dustpaw, as usual, scowled profusely.

* * *

Firepaw stared in amazement at the unfamiliar warriors lining the clearing at Fourtrees. He had known that there would be several warriors from other Clans at the Gathering, of course, but he hadn't realized just how many cats could fit into a single clearing. What he found even stranger than the sheer number of cats, however, was the fact that almost everyone seemed to be getting along.

Tigerclaw was off to the side, retelling the story of the battle at Sunningrocks to a group of ShadowClan warriors. Smallear, Patchpelt, and Dappletail were gossiping with two RiverClan elders. Even the normally shy Ravenpaw was telling a story of some sort to a few apprentices who, Firepaw noticed with a twinge of confusion, looked oddly small for being six moons old.

"Look up there," Graypaw hissed beside Firepaw, his eyes trained on the Great Rock. Bluestar was already up there, along with two toms Firepaw didn't recognize. One of them was a massive tabby with a twisted jaw and the other was a dark tabby that reminded him faintly of Tigerclaw. The dark tabby had a chilling aura about him that made Firepaw shiver with fear even from this distance.

"Who are they?" he asked curiously. He could guess that they must be two of the other Clan leaders, but that was as much as he could figure out.

"The one with the twisted jaw is Crookedstar of RiverClan," Graypaw answered. "And the dark tabby is Brokenstar of ShadowClan."

"He looks unpleasant," Firepaw murmured.

"Too right." It was Sandpaw who spoke up this time. "He hasn't been leader long either–only about four moons, since his father, Raggedstar, died."

"What does the leader of WindClan look like?" Firepaw asked.

"Tallstar? I've never seen him, but I hear he's a black and white tom with a very long tail," Graypaw meowed.

Firepaw was about to ask him if he could see Tallstar now, but then he remembered what Bluestar had said about finding WindClan missing from their camp a moon ago. Somehow, he didn't think that they would be seeing Tallstar or any of the WindClan warriors anytime soon.

"Hello there, young one."

Firepaw spun around to see two RiverClan warriors standing behind him. The one who had spoken was a large, muscled gray tom, and his companion was a blue-gray queen who bore an oddly uncanny resemblance to Bluestar.

"Oh, hello," he meowed awkwardly, wondering why it was that two warriors from an enemy Clan would choose to seek out an apprentice. By the looks on Graypaw and Sandpaw's faces, they were confused by their behavior as well.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Stonefur, and this is my sister, Mistyfoot," the gray tom meowed.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Firepaw," the ginger tom meowed quietly.

"I'm Graypaw," Graypaw piped up.

"And I'm Sandpaw," interjected Sandpaw.

Mistyfoot and Stonefur dipped their heads to them in turn before Stonefur turned back to Firepaw. "I hear you were at the battle at Sunningrocks. I must say, I'm impressed that an apprentice as young as yourself would want to go into battle so quickly. You were a new apprentice, weren't you?"

"Er, yes. Yes, I was," Firepaw replied, wondering where Stonefur was going with all this.

However, the older warrior merely dipped his head. "Courageous," he meowed. "You'll make a fine warrior for your Clan one day."

"T-thank you," Firepaw stammered.

A yowl sounded from the top of the Great Rock. Mistyfoot and Stonefur gave them a nod of farewell before turning to join a few of their Clanmates several tail-lengths away. Firepaw turned his attention to the Great Rock and was grimly unsurprised to see that there were still only three cats seated there.

"Surely they won't start without WindClan?" he heard one of the RiverClan elders hiss in worry.

"Didn't you hear? They weren't at the last Gathering either," another one of her Clanmates meowed back.

"Cats of all Clans," Brokenstar meowed from the top of the Great Rock. "I come to speak to you about the needs of ShadowClan–"

But he was drowned out by the furious yowls of the other warriors.

"We cannot start without WindClan!" a RiverClan warrior called out.

"Where is Tallstar?"

"Where are the WindClan representatives?"

Brokenstar glared balefully down into the clearing. "As the leader of ShadowClan, it is my right to address you here!" he spat, his hackles raised.

The cats in the clearing fell silent, and Firepaw could taste the subtle tang of fear-scent in the air.

Brokenstar yowled again, "We all know that the hard time of leaf-bare, and the late newleaf, have left us with little prey in our hunting grounds. But we also know that RiverClan, WindClan, and ThunderClan lost many kits in the freezing weather that came so late this season. ShadowClan did not lose kits. We are hardened to the cold northern wind. Our kits are stronger than yours from the moment they are born. And so we find ourselves with many mouths to feed, and too little prey to feed them."

The crowd was silent, listening anxiously. Firepaw, for his part, was wondering if all Clan leaders were arrogant enough to claim that their kits were stronger than all other Clans right from the moment of birth. Well, not Bluestar, but possibly the other leaders and obviously Brokenstar.

"The needs of ShadowClan are simple. In order to survive, we must increase our hunting grounds. That is why I insist you allow ShadowClan warriors to hunt in your territories."

A shocked but muted growl rippled through the crowd.

"Share our hunting grounds?" called the outraged voice of Tigerclaw.

"It is unprecedented!" cried a tortoiseshell queen from RiverClan. "The Clans have never shared hunting rights!"

"Should ShadowClan be punished because our kits thrive?" Brokenstar yowled from the Great Rock. "Do you want us to watch our young starve? You _must _share what you have with us."

"_Must!_" spat Smallear.

"Must," Brokenstar repeated. "WindClan failed to understand this. In the end, we were forced to drive them out of their territory."

Snarls of outrage broke out from the surrounding cats, but Brokenstar's yowl rang loud above them: "And if we have to, we will drive you from your territories as well."

There was instant silence. On the other side of the clearing, Firepaw heard a RiverClan apprentice start to mutter something, but he was quickly hushed by an elder.

Satisfied that he had every cat's attention, the ShadowClan leader continued. "Each year, the Twolegs spoil more of our territory. At least one Clan must remain strong if all the Clans are to survive. ShadowClan thrives while you all struggle. And there may come a time when you need us to protect you."

"That's likely," Firepaw muttered, before realizing what he'd just done. _Oops_.

Fortunately, Brokenstar chose to ignore his interruption, if he'd even heard it. Instead, he meowed, "I do not ask for your answers now. You must each go away and consider my words. But bear this in mind. Would you prefer to share your prey, or be driven out and left homeless and starving?"

Warriors, elders, and apprentices looked at one another in disbelief. In the silence that followed, Crookedstar stepped forward and meowed quietly, "I have already agreed to allow Brokenstar partial rights to the river that runs through our territory."

Horror and humiliation rippled through the Riverclan representatives.

"We were not consulted!" cried a grizzled silver tabby.

"I feel that this is best for our Clan. For all the Clans," Crookedstar meowed his voice heavy with resignation. "There is plenty of fish in the river. It's better to share than to spill blood over prey."

"And what of ThunderClan?" Smallear croaked. "Bluestar? Have you, too, agreed to this outrageous demand?"

Bluestar met the old tom's gaze unwaveringly. "I have made no agreement with Brokenstar except that I will discuss his proposal with my Clan after the Gathering."

_Which means that she has no intention of agreeing at all, _Firepaw added silently, feeling a glow of pride that this cat was his mentor.

Brokenstar's rasping mew sounded again, cold and arrogant after Crookedstar's surrender. "I also bring news about the safety of your kits. A ShadowClan cat has turned rogue and spurned the warrior code. We chased her out of our camp, but we do not know where she is now. She looks like a mangy old creature, but she has a bite like TigerClan."

Firepaw's fur bristled. Could Brokenstar be talking about Yellowfang? He pricked his ears, straining to hear more.

"I warn you–do not offer shelter to her. And"–Brokenstar paused dramatically–"until she is caught and killed, I urge you to keep an eye on your kits."

Firepaw knew from the nervous growls from his Clanmates that they, too, had thought of Brokenstar. The former ShadowClan queen had done nothing to endear herself to her reluctant hosts, and he guessed that it wouldn't take much to drum up hatred against her. Even the words of a hated enemy such as Brokenstar would be enough.

There was something about the ShadowClan leader's proclamation that left an uneasy feeling in the pit of Firepaw's stomach. Yellowfang's appearance when she first arrived in ThunderClan would suggest that she had been living as a rogue for quite some time, possibly at least two moons or longer. Yet when she'd entered their camp, only a day or two after the last Gathering, he hadn't heard any mention of any rogues being driven out then. That would seem to imply that her exile had happened shortly afterward, but then it wouldn't make sense for her to be as unkempt as she was. And looking around at the other ShadowClan warriors, all of them looked fairly well-groomed.

Then there was the fact that Brokenstar had chosen to drive WindClan out of their territory, but waited until the Gathering to ask ThunderClan and RiverClan to share hunting grounds. Not only that but from what Firepaw knew about ShadowClan, they didn't seem to be the type of Clan to ask for anyone else's help. Surely someone who was arrogant enough to proclaim that his Clan's kits were born stronger than those of any other Clan wouldn't make a public declaration stating that he needed the assistance of his neighbors?

_What's going on here? _

Firepaw shook himself off, then turned and slipped away from his Clanmates. He couldn't figure out what was going through Brokenstar's mind now, but one thing was for certain. He needed to get back and warn Yellowfang before his Clanmates could get to her.


	19. Brokenstar's Threat

When Bluestar led her Gathering patrol back into the camp, several of the warriors who had stayed behind were already stirring in their nests, alerted by the scents of anger and aggression. She knew that she would need to calm her Clan quickly before any harm came to Yellowfang. Despite her own misgivings, she wasn't quite ready to harm an already-injured queen on the word of Brokenstar.

"What has happened?" Runningwind called out.

"Brokenstar has demanded hunting rights for ShadowClan in our territory!" Longtail replied, loud enough for every cat in the camp and possibly a few in Twolegplace to hear.

"And he warned us about a rogue cat who will harm our kits!" added Willowpelt. "It must be Yellowfang."

Meows of anger and distress rose from the crowd.

"Silence!" Bluestar ordered, leaping onto the Highrock. Instinctively, all the cats settled themselves down in front of her.

A loud screech made every cat turn their heads toward the fallen tree where the elders slept. Tigerclaw and Darkstripe were dragging Yellowfang roughly from her nest. She shrieked furiously as they hauled her into the clearing and dumped her in front of the Highrock.

Bluestar felt her neck fur rise slightly. _Honestly, with the way those two behave, one would think we teach our warriors to be savage rogues! _she thought irritably. She noticed Firepaw's muscles tense as though he were about to spring at Yellowfang's persecutors and silently willed her kit to remain still. Brave and reckless as he was, he wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against Tigerclaw. Fortunately, Graypaw meowed something in his ear and Firepaw let his aggressive stance relax.

Satisfied that her son would stay out of trouble, for now, Bluestar leaped down from the Highrock. "What is going on here?" she demanded, glaring at her warriors. "I gave no order to attack our prisoner."

Tigerclaw and Darkstripe instantly let go of Yellowfang, who crouched on the ground, hissing, and spitting.

Frostfur appeared from the nursery and pushed her way to the front of the Clan. "We made it back in time!" she gasped. "The kits are safe!"

"Of course they are!" Bluestar snapped. _Has everyone in this Clan lost their minds? _

Her first apprentice looked taken aback. "But...but you _are _going to throw Yellowfang out, aren't you?"

"Throw her out?" Darkstripe spat. "We should kill her now!"

Bluestar gave the dark tabby a cold glare. "And what has she done?"

"You were at the Gathering!" _Yes, Darkstripe, as every Clan leader almost always is. _"Brokenstar said she–"

"Brokenstar only said that there is a rogue somewhere in the woods," Bluestar meowed coolly. "He did not mention Yellowfang by name. As long as she is in my Clan, Yellowfang will not be harmed in any way."

"But who _else _could he be talking about?" Dustpaw called out. "We haven't heard anything of any other ShadowClan cats being driven out."

"Just because you haven't heard doesn't mean it hasn't happened," Firepaw snapped back.

Dustpaw sneered at Bluestar's youngest kit. "Oh yeah? And I suppose you think Yellowfang's innocent, do you?"

"Actually, yes," Firepaw meowed evenly, and the tabby apprentice's sneer became even more pronounced.

"Of course, why should I expect anything less from a kittypet?"

"Well, it doesn't take a genius to see that it wouldn't make any sort of logical sense for Yellowfang to be the cat Brokenstar's talking about, but you don't seem to know how to use your brain, so why should I expect anything from you?" the ginger tom asked coldly. Bluestar knew she should have intervened by now, but she was rather enjoying seeing her son give Dustpaw a little dose of common sense.

"And where's your proof of that?" Tigerclaw growled.

Firepaw turned to face the older warrior. "Easy," he replied. "When Yellowfang was brought into our camp, didn't she look as though she'd been living as a rogue for quite some time?"

Tigerclaw nodded slowly.

"But that was only a day or two after the last Gathering, and Brokenstar couldn't have made any sort of announcement about a ShadowClan rogue then, or else Bluestar wouldn't have allowed Yellowfang to stay as a prisoner," Firepaw continued. "She wouldn't let anything happen to the kits. But one or two days isn't long enough for Yellowfang's fur to have been as matted and filthy as it was unless it was already like that before, which also wouldn't be logical since she was a medicine cat, and therefore would need to keep herself well-groomed to avoid infecting any sick or injured patients."

Bluestar could see by the expression in her warriors' eyes that Firepaw's speech had convinced them. Yellowfang looked up at her from where she was crouching beneath the Highrock, orange eyes gleaming.

"Your apprentice certainly takes after you, Bluestar," she rasped. "He alone of your warriors seems to know how to use his head once in a while."

Bluestar purred in agreement, then turned her attention to the surrounding cats. "It is time we discussed the real threat to our Clan: Brokenstar," she meowed. "We have already begun to prepare for an attack from ShadowClan. We will continue those preparations and patrol our borders more frequently. WindClan has gone. RiverClan has given hunting rights to ShadowClan warriors. ThunderClan stands alone against Brokenstar."

"Then we're not going to agree to Brokenstar's demands?" Tigerclaw asked.

"The Clans have never shared hunting rights before," Bluestar answered, biting back a sarcastic comment about how she had actually planned to tell ShadowClan that they were moving out right then and there. "We have always supported ourselves in our own territories. There is no reason why this should change now."

"But will we be able to defend ourselves from an attack by ShadowClan?" Smallear's tremulous mew sounded from the back. "WindClan didn't manage it! RiverClan won't even try!"

Bluestar leveled her gaze at the old tom. "We _must _try. We will not give up our territory without a fight," she meowed firmly. "I will travel to the Moonstone tomorrow to speak with our warrior ancestors. They will give me the strength I need to lead ThunderClan through this dark time. You all go get some rest. We have a lot to do when daylight comes. Redtail, I wish to speak to you now."

Without another word, she turned around and padded into her den and waited for her deputy to join her. Through the curtain of lichen, she could make out the faint shape of her kit padding towards Spottedleaf's den. He must have been looking to get herbs for Yellowfang, then. Bluestar gave a quiet purr at Firepaw's thoughtfulness. She was proud that this cat was her son.

Knowing this, she wondered how Brokenstar's mother, whoever she was, felt when she looked at her son now. Was she disappointed and ashamed by him, or did a part of her still love him for the kit he had once been? She was thankful that she didn't have to know what that felt like; Mistyfoot and Stonefur were noble warriors.

"Bluestar? You wanted to speak with me?" Redtail's mew interrupted her thoughts.

"Ah, Redtail," she meowed. "I was just thinking that this would be the perfect opportunity for our apprentices to fulfill their journey to the Moonstone, don't you think?"

"It would be," her deputy agreed.

"But five apprentices would be a bit much to take on the trip," Bluestar mused. "Three should be plenty. I will take Firepaw, as he is my apprentice. Who else would you suggest?"

"Not Dustpaw," Redtail meowed instantly. "I haven't been impressed with his behavior since Firepaw joined the Clan, and sabotaging Ravenpaw's assessment yesterday certainly didn't do him any favors. But Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw have all been working hard. I'd suggest taking all of them even if it will be one more apprentice than you'd planned."

Bluestar didn't see the harm in that, so she meowed, "Very well, then. Do let them know, will you? Send them to Spottedleaf to collect their traveling herbs–they're going to need them."

Redtail dipped his head and backed out of her den. The ThunderClan leader watched him go, then curled up in her nest and tried to get some sleep. Somehow, she had a feeling that it would take a lot more than StarClan's blessing to help protect her Clan–and, more importantly, her son–from the wrath of ShadowClan.


	20. Journey to Mothermouth

At sunrise the next morning, Bluestar padded over to Spottedleaf's den, where Firepaw, Graypaw, Sandpaw, and Ravenpaw were swallowing their herbs, looking as if they would have liked nothing more than to spit them out. She purred with amusement, remembering how much she'd hated the herbs when she had to eat them before her first journey to the Moonstone. Tigerclaw joined her a few moments later, watching Ravenpaw critically as though he were judging his apprentice on his eating manners. Bluestar sighed inwardly; she knew Tigerclaw hadn't been impressed when she gave him the timid black cat as an apprentice, but she knew that she had made the right choice. The dark tabby was a fine warrior, so surely some of his courage would pass down onto Ravenpaw.

"Ugh!" Graypaw complained, swallowing the last mouthful. "I knew they'd be bitter. Why couldn't we eat a fat, juicy mouse instead?"

"With you here, I don't think there would be any for the rest of us if we let you near the mice," Firepaw mumbled. Screwing up his face in disgust, he choked down the last of his herbs as well.

"These herbs will keep your hunger at bay longer," Bluestar meowed, glancing over at her kit with fond sympathy.

"I'll say," the ginger tom huffed. "After having that taste in my mouth, I don't think I'll be hungry for moons."

Sandpaw snorted with laughter and Tigerclaw rolled his eyes. Bluestar tapped her son's shoulder with her tail before leading the Moonstone patrol out through the gorse tunnel. As they exited the camp, they came across Lionheart and Redtail, returning from the dawn patrol.

"Safe journey," Redtail meowed.

Bluestar nodded to her deputy. "I know I can trust you to keep the camp safe," she meowed.

Lionheart looked over at Graypaw and dipped his head. "Remember," he meowed. "You are almost a warrior. Don't forget what I have taught you."

Graypaw looked back at his mentor with affection. "I will always remember, Lionheart," he meowed, nudging his head against the golden tabby's flank.

* * *

Bluestar led the patrol swiftly through Fourtrees, knowing it was the quickest way to pass into WindClan territory. Behind her, she could hear Firepaw talking animatedly with his denmates about a few mishaps he'd gotten into as a kittypet.

"You did not," Sandpaw gasped, doubling up with laughter at one of Firepaw's stories.

The flame-colored apprentice grimaced. "Sad to say, but I did," he meowed. Curious, Bluestar pricked her ears to listen. "Admittedly, my Twolegs' fish didn't taste all that great, but it was better than the slop they usually tried to feed me. You should have seen their faces, though. I didn't think it was possible for a Twoleg to make those sounds."

Now Bluestar found herself chuckling as well, imagining her son's Twolegs screeching in fury as he gulped down their fish. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tigerclaw staring ahead coldly, but the twitching of his whiskers gave away his amusement.

"That wasn't the worst thing, though," Firepaw continued. "When I was two moons old, there was an old tom in Twolegplace that passed away. As it happened, he had a littermate who looked exactly like him, but he always stayed inside for some reason. The first time I saw him was after his Twolegs buried his brother, and...and I screamed and hid in some flowers because I thought he was a ghost."

Bluestar was grateful that she hadn't been allowed to eat before they left because if it were possible, she would likely have thrown up from laughter by now. Firepaw's denmates were nearly suffocating, and even Tigerclaw was chuckling reluctantly. They were still trying to control themselves as they padded through the vast expanses of WindClan territory. The air still carried the faint scents of WindClan, but they were stale. Much fresher and more alarming were the scents of ShadowClan.

"Cats are granted safe passage to Highstones, but ShadowClan seems to have no regard for the warrior code anymore, so be alert," she warned her patrol. "We mustn't hunt outside our territory, though. We'll obey the warrior code even if ShadowClan refuses."

They set off into the plateau as the sun rose higher into the sky. Bluestar's thick fur felt heavy and hot without the canopy of the trees back in ThunderClan territory, but she pushed forward, knowing she couldn't show any weakness to her Clan.

Suddenly, Tigerclaw stopped dead. "Watch out!" he hissed. "I smell a ShadowClan patrol."

Bluestar lifted her nose, catching the scent of ShadowClan on the wind. To her relief, they were upwind, so they wouldn't have scented them yet.

"It's alright, they're upwind," she meowed. "But we must hurry. If they move forward, they're likely to detect us."

They moved quickly through the sweet-smelling heather, keeping an eye out for the ShadowClan patrol. Eventually, however, the odor grew fainter and fainter as they reached the edge of the uplands. There, the landscape changed dramatically, altered beyond recognition by Twolegs. Wide earth cracks crisscrossed green and gold meadows, small woods dotted the land, and Twoleg nests were scattered about the field. The Thunderpath loomed in the distance, and Bluestar felt the familiar pang of memory and loss hit her when she spotted the wide, gray path.

"Is that the Thunderpath?" Firepaw meowed from behind her.

"Yes," Sandpaw meowed. "It runs up from ShadowClan territory. Look closely and you'll see Highstones beyond it."

Bluestar assumed that Firepaw must have looked for Highstones, but her mind was no longer on the journey. Instead, memories of Snowfur, Mosskit, and Thrushpelt were running through her head. Three cats, all the kin of her son: his father, his aunt, and his half-sister. Yet he remembered none of them. One he had lost his memories of after being taken to Twolegplace, and two he wouldn't meet until it was his time to join StarClan.

Perhaps if she'd made different choices, Firepaw could have had his family to grow up alongside. Snowfur would have loved taking care of him and Mistyfoot and Stonefur would have been wonderful older siblings. Mosskit would still be alive too. But at the same time, Bluestar knew that if she'd made different choices, her first litter likely wouldn't exist. As much as it hurt to see them at Gatherings, she knew that she could never wish that her children hadn't been born.

They skirted a Twoleg nest. It stood on an expanse of hard, white stone, with smaller nests surrounding the edges. Keeping low, the cats crept alongside the fence that surrounded the white stone. A sudden barrage of barking and snarling made them spin around.

_Dogs! _Bluestar felt her fur bristle with alarm, ready to protect her kit if necessary. Instinctively, she shifted so that she was shielding Firepaw from the dogs' view.

Tigerclaw peered around the fence. "It's alright, they're tied up," he hissed.

The shout of an unseen Twoleg silenced the dogs, and the cats moved on. Bluestar felt the fur on her shoulders lie flat, silently thanking StarClan that the dogs hadn't caused any more trouble. Being so far away from home, her protective instinct had taken over a considerable part of her mind. Were it not for the fact that she knew that doing so would raise suspicion, she would have insisted that Firepaw stay right by her side for the entire journey.

The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the Thunderpath. Watching as the monsters sped by in front of her, Bluestar signaled with her tail for her warriors to stop.

"We'll go one at a time," Tigerclaw meowed. "Ravenpaw, you first."

"No, Tigerclaw," Bluestar interrupted. "I will go first. Don't forget, this is the first time crossing for the apprentices. Let them see how it's done."

She padded over to the edge of the Thunderpath, waiting calmly as one monster after another flew by, ruffling her fur. As soon as the Thunderpath grew quiet, she raced across to the other side.

"Off you go, Ravenpaw, now you've seen what to do," Tigerclaw meowed.

Ravenpaw padded to the edge of the path, his eyes wide with fear. Bluestar found that she couldn't blame him. The Thunderpath was quiet, but the scrawny black cat hesitated for a moment.

"Go!" Tigerclaw hissed.

Bluestar's view of Ravenpaw was momentarily blocked as a monster sped by. As soon as it was gone, he pelted over to the other side to join her. His fur was still fluffed up along his spine, but some of the terror in his eyes had faded.

"Are you alright?" Bluestar asked.

"I'm fine, Bluestar," Ravenpaw meowed as Sandpaw pelted over to join them.

"I'll be glad if I never have to cross that thing again," the pale ginger molly meowed.

"Well, we'll have to cross again on the way back," Bluestar reminded her. "But you likely won't have to make many journeys across it in the future."

Graypaw was lucky. A long lull let him cross safely. Then it was Firepaw's turn.

"Go on, then," Tigerclaw growled.

Bluestar watched as the ginger tom approached the edge of the Thunderpath, looking from side to side. A monster was roaring towards him from a distance. It was moving too quickly for him to pass over now, so he remained where he was.

Suddenly, her heart lurched as she realized that the monster had veered off the Thunderpath and was heading straight for her kit. A Twoleg was hanging out from an opening in its side, jeering. Firepaw leaped swiftly to the side as the monster swerved around him, barely missing him by a whisker as it zoomed back onto the path and disappeared. Once it was gone, Firepaw raced across to the other side, nearly knocking Sandpaw off his feet as he cannoned straight into her.

"Oof–sorry, Sandpaw," Firepaw meowed apologetically, still breathless from his close call.

"No worries. I thought you were fresh-kill!" she exclaimed.

"Do you want to rest before we go on?" Bluestar asked, her own heart still racing from watching her son nearly get flattened by a Twoleg monster. She longed to be able to curl around him and lick the grime and dirt out of his fur as she had done when he was still a tiny kit.

"No," Firepaw replied, glancing up at the sky. "I'm okay."

The cats continued on, with Bluestar in the lead. Every so often, she would glance over her shoulder to make sure that Firepaw was alright. It occurred to her that she was probably more frightened by Firepaw's close call with the monster than he was, but it wasn't as if she could help it. She had already lost Snowfur to the Thunderpath; she didn't need to lose her son the same way.

As they approached the base of Highstones, Bluestar settled herself down on a warm, sunlit rock wide enough for all six cats to sit and rest side by side. Some of the tension left her as she felt Firepaw's smaller body brush against her flank.

"Look," she meowed, gesturing with her nose toward the dark slope before them. "Mothermouth."

The cats waited in silence as the sun began to dip down below Highstones. When the moon was beginning to rise, Bluestar meowed, "We'll wait here until the moon is higher. You should all go find some food if you're hungry and then get some rest."

Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw raced away and Tigerclaw headed in the opposite direction, but Firepaw remained where he was. Bluestar looked down at her kit, still gazing curiously at Mothermouth.

"You're not hungry?" she asked, feeling worried. Maybe that close brush with the Twoleg monster had frightened him more than he'd let on.

"Not really," Firepaw murmured but didn't say anything else.

The other three apprentices returned with plenty of fresh-kill, and with Tigerclaw they crouched on the stony hillside and feasted. But Firepaw didn't join in and neither did Bluestar, although she couldn't have even if she wanted to. She resolved to get her son to eat something before the return journey. It wouldn't do him any good to starve himself.

After they were done eating, the cats settled themselves around Bluestar and Firepaw and rested as the warmth seeped out of the rocks. As cold, black shadows crept up on all sides, Bluestar rose to her paws and called out, "Come. It is time."


	21. Moonstone

Bluestar stood and began to pad toward Mothermouth. Tigerclaw padded beside her, matching her stride step for step.

"Come on, you three!" Graypaw called, bounding after the older warriors. Firepaw got up from where he'd been resting and followed Graypaw, with Sandpaw and Ravenpaw flanking him.

It took the cats only a few moments to reach Mothermouth. Firepaw stood on the threshold and peered inside. The blackness beyond the stone archway was darker than the cloudiest night. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see where the tunnel led, but he couldn't make out a thing.

"Well, you'd certainly get a good night's sleep in there," he remarked. "Though I don't see how anyone would be able to find their way through that."

"I will know the way," Bluestar meowed, her whiskers twitching. "Just follow my scent. Ravenpaw, Sandpaw, and Graypaw, you three will remain on guard duty. Firepaw, Tigerclaw, come with me."

Firepaw felt a thrill of excitement at the honor Bluestar was giving him. He glanced over at Tigerclaw. The dark tabby had his chin raised boldly, but Firepaw could detect a subtle fear-scent coming off him. It grew stronger as Bluestar stepped forward into the darkness.

_Strange, _he thought, shaking his head. What could Tigerclaw possibly be afraid of here?

Tigerclaw shook his mighty head and padded after Bluestar. Giving a brief nod to the other apprentices, Firepaw quickly followed after them.

Inside the cave, his eyes still detected nothing, not that he'd been expecting to see much anyway. Despite the sheer darkness of the tunnel, he was surprised to realize that he wasn't afraid. His eagerness to discover what lay ahead was too overwhelming.

The cold damp air seeped in through his fur and into his bones, stiffening his muscles. Even the coldest nights didn't hold the same chill here. Being malnourished certainly wasn't helping matters, and soon Firepaw found himself shivering violently from the cold. Freezing air filled his lungs with each breath until he felt lightheaded.

He followed Bluestar and Tigerclaw through the darkness, judging his way by scent and feel alone. His muscles were growing numb with cold and he could barely move to put one paw in front of the other, but he forced himself to keep going so as not to fall behind. He could tell that they were only a tail-length ahead and fought hard to keep the distance from growing.

Then he felt a tingling in his whiskers. The air in his nostrils seemed fresher than before. Firepaw sniffed again, relieved to smell the familiar world above. There must have been a hole somewhere in the tunnel.

"Where are we?" he called into the darkness.

"We have entered the cavern of the Moonstone," came Bluestar's soft reply. "Wait here. It will be moonhigh soon."

Firepaw folded his hind legs under him on the freezing stone and waited. He could hear the steady breathing of Bluestar and the more rapid, fear-scented panting of Tigerclaw.

Suddenly, in a flash more blinding than the setting sun, the cave was lit up. Firepaw quickly shut his eyes against the cold white light. Then slowly, he opened them into tiny slits and peered ahead. He saw a gleaming rock, which glittered as if it were made from countless dewdrops.

_The Moonstone_, he breathed silently. Now he understood why everyone had been in such awe when Bluestar announced her plans to visit the Moonstone–it really was impressive.

Bluestar was staring upward, her fur glowing white in the light of the Moonstone. Even Tigerclaw's dark pelt shone silver. High in the roof was an opening that revealed a small triangle of the night sky. The moon was casting a beam of light through the hole onto the Moonstone, making it sparkle like a star.

Beside him, Firepaw could smell Tigerclaw's fear-scent growing until it became overpowering. Despite himself, he couldn't suppress a twinge of apprehension. Could the great warrior see something else here, something dangerous? He prayed that it wasn't it, although the only other explanation would be that Tigerclaw was scared of glowing rocks, which was both hilarious to imagine and completely illogical.

_But he was twitchy on the way down here too, _the flame-colored tom thought to himself. _Maybe he's scared of the dark too. _

He saw a flash of movement, felt fur brush past him, and heard the fleeing pawsteps of Tigerclaw as he raced back toward the entrance.

"Firepaw?" Bluestar's voice was quiet and calm.

"I'm still here," he answered. "I didn't know Tigerclaw was scared of the dark and glowing rocks."

Bluestar chuckled. "I think the power of the Moonstone surprised Tigerclaw. In the world above, Tigerclaw is a fearless and mighty warrior, but down here, where the spirits of StarClan speak, a cat needs a different kind of strength. What do you feel, Firepaw?"

"Freezing," was Firepaw's first reply. "Also curious, but mostly freezing."

"Can you move?" Bluestar asked, sounding worried. Firepaw prayed that she wasn't about to start smothering him again. "Come lie down beside me. You'll be warmer that way."

Well, he couldn't exactly pass up the opportunity to get some semblance of feeling back into his legs, so with a grunt, Firepaw struggled to his paws and stumbled over to his mentor. He felt her lick the top of his head before she settled herself down in front of the Moonstone and touched her nose to it. Her blue eyes sparkled with its reflection for a moment before she closed them. Now she rested her head on her paws, her eyelids flickering, her tail twitching occasionally.

He waited. The chill wasn't so intense with the warmth of Bluestar's fur, but still, he found himself shivering. He had no idea how much time had passed, but suddenly, the rock stopped glowing and the cavern was plunged back into darkness. Firepaw looked up and saw that the moon had passed. All that was left now was the faint glow of a few tiny stars.

He could just make out the pale shape of his leader lying beside the Moonstone. Firepaw wanted to call out to her, but he didn't dare disturb the silence.

After more endless moments, she spoke to him again. "Firepaw? Are you there?" Her voice sounded remote and agitated.

"Yes, Bluestar," he meowed. He could hear her pawsteps approaching.

"Hurry," she hissed. "We must return to our camp."

Firepaw struggled to his feet, but his legs were still numb from the cold. He limped forward a few steps, then felt Bluestar gently pick him up by his scruff and drape him over her shoulders. She carried him up and up the dark tunnel until they were safely back to the outside world.

* * *

Tigerclaw was waiting beside Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw when Bluestar exited the cave with Firepaw on her back. His expression was cold and his fur was slightly ruffled, but he sat motionless and dignified.

"Tigerclaw," Bluestar greeted him but did not mention the senior warrior's flight from the depths.

Tigerclaw relaxed a little. "What did you learn? And what's happened to your apprentice?"

Firepaw grunted. "My legs decided they didn't like being legs," he meowed. To Bluestar, he added. "I think I can walk now. It's warmer out here, so I can feel my muscles again."

Bluestar nodded and allowed him to slide off her back. Firepaw shook himself off, trying to regain his sense of balance. After nearly freezing his paws off, he wasn't entirely sure which foot belonged where anymore.

"Come on," the blue-gray queen meowed. "We must return to camp immediately."

Firepaw saw a look of desperation in his leader's eyes. A chill ran down his spine. What had their warrior ancestors told her? Could it be that, by traveling to the Moonstone now, they had ended up endangering their camp?


	22. Rats and ShadowClan's Attack

The group held a swift pace on their way back down from Highstones and into Twoleg territory. A few tail-lengths ahead, Bluestar and Tigerclaw had leaped through a fence, out of the cornfield. The apprentices followed after, squeezing underneath the fence and onto an earth track. It was the path that led past the Twoleg nest and the dogs. Firepaw looked ahead to see Bluestar and Tigerclaw trotting tirelessly together, silhouetted against a sky tinged with red. Almost subconsciously, he quickened his pace, the same feeling of foreboding washing over him. What was it that StarClan had told Bluestar that could have put her on edge like this?

"Look!" Sandpaw exclaimed. An unfamiliar cat had just jumped in front of the two warriors.

"It's a loner!" Graypaw hissed. The four apprentices hurried forward.

The stranger was a stocky black and white tom, shorter than the warriors, but well-muscled.

"This is Barley," Bluestar explained to the apprentices as they caught up. "He lives near this Twoleg nest."

"Hi!" meowed the cat. Firepaw was almost surprised at how friendly the loner seemed. "I haven't seen any of your Clan for some moons. How are you, Bluestar?"

"I'm well, thank you," the blue-furred ThunderClan leader replied. "And you, Barley? How has the prey been running since we last passed this way?"

"Not so bad," Barley replied with an amiable gleam in his eyes. "One good thing about Twolegs–you'll always find plenty of rats nearby."

Firepaw wasn't too sure about that. He'd seen a few rats during his time in Twolegplace and never wanted to relive the experience as long as he lived. They hadn't caused him any trouble directly, but something about their appearance made his fur prickle unpleasantly.

"You seem in more of a hurry than usual," the black and white tom continued. "Is everything alright?"

Tigerclaw looked at Barley and narrowed his eyes. Firepaw could tell that he was suspicious of the loner's curiosity. He wasn't sure whether he shared his concerns or not.

"I don't like to be away from my Clan for too long," Bluestar answered smoothly.

"As always, Bluestar, you are tied to a Clan like a queen to her kits," Barley observed, though not unkindly. Firepaw blinked. Was it just his imagination, or did Bluestar stiffen at the mention of the word "kits"?

"What is it you want, Barley?" Tigerclaw asked harshly.

Barley flashed him a reproachful look. "I just came to warn you that there are two dogs here now. You'd be safer going back into the cornfield instead of past the yard."

"But the dogs were tied up when we saw them last," Firepaw blurted out.

"Yes," Tigerclaw agreed, narrowing his eyes.

"The Twoleg unties them at night. They guard his nest," the loner explained. "He won't tie them up again until past sunhigh."

"Very well, then. Thank you for the warning, Barley," Bluestar meowed, dipping her head to the black and white tom. "Until next time, then."

Barley flicked his tail and turned away. "Have a safe journey."

Bluestar led the patrol back through the fence and into the cornfield. By now, the sun had risen above the horizon. The hedgerows sparkled with dew, promising another warm day. After nearly freezing to death by the Moonstone, Firepaw would be lying if he said a bit of warm weather wasn't a welcome thought.

The cats padded along the edge of a ditch. Firepaw looked into the deep gully, steep-sided and filled with nettles. There was something familiar about the scent...but no, surely not. Surely his mind must be playing tricks on him. He'd been thinking about rats earlier, and now he was smelling–

"Rats!" Tigerclaw spat as something leaped out of the ditch and began to drag Ravenpaw away. "Barley has sent us into a trap."

Apparently, it hadn't been his imagination after all.

Before they could react, all six cats were surrounded. Massive brown rats swarmed out of the ditch, squeaking shrilly. Firepaw would have been impressed at the unity of this pack of rats if their shrill squeaking wasn't threatening to burst his eardrums.

Suddenly, one leaped onto Firepaw's shoulder. Fiery pain shot through him as the rat sank its teeth into his flesh. Another grasped his leg between surprisingly powerful jaws.

Firepaw flung himself down onto the path and tried to wriggle free. He knew the rats were not as strong as he was, but there were so many of them. Yowls, hisses, and spits told him the others were also being attacked.

He slashed fiercely with his claws, slicing out at a rodent that held onto his leg. It let go, but another one grabbed hold of his tail. Fast as lightning, fueled by fear and rage, Firepaw fought and hacked at his attackers. Twisting his head around, he sank his teeth into the rat that had embedded itself into his shoulders. He felt its brown body go limp in his jaws before he tossed it away into the ditch.

Just as suddenly, however, another rat leaped onto his back. Firepaw twisted around to try to get at it but slipped. Thinking quickly, he rolled over onto his back, putting as much of his weight into the movement as possible. There was a sickening crunch and the rat's weight disappeared from his back as he got back to his feet.

_Thank StarClan I'm at least heavy enough for that, _the flame-pelted tom thought grimly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white fur. Confused, Firepaw spun around and saw Barley picking a rat off Sandpaw and flinging it into the ditch. Quickly, Firepaw rushed over and picked another one off his friend.

"Thanks, you two," Sandpaw gasped.

"No problem," Firepaw answered.

Without hesitating, Barley turned and bounded down the path toward Bluestar. She was writhing on the path, covered in rats. In a flash, Barley had the spine of a rat between his teeth and was plucking it off her with practiced ease. He spat it on the ground and grabbed another as Bluestar thrashed beneath him.

A few tail-lengths away, Graypaw was being attacked by two smaller rats. Firepaw hesitated, unsure whether he should help his mentor or his friend. Sandpaw noticed him and hissed, "Go ahead and help Bluestar out. I'll take care of Graypaw."

Nodding gratefully, Firepaw turned and raced over to his leader. He could feel blood pouring down his flank and knew from the accompanying pain that some of his wounds had been reopened. Gritting his teeth, he limped over to Bluestar and helped Barley get a few more rats off her.

"They're running away!" Tigerclaw yowled.

Sure enough, the remaining rats were fleeing down the safety of the ditch. Firepaw sat down on the path with a sigh, his flanks heaving with exhaustion and every inch of his body screaming in agony. Blood dripped down from his wounds, reopened and new, turning the dirt path crimson. Taking a deep breath, Firepaw glanced over at Bluestar, still lying on the path beside him. At once, his fur bristled in horror.

Bluestar's eyes were open but glazed, and the back of her neck was stained red with blood. She didn't even appear to be breathing.

"Tigerclaw! Bluestar's hurt!" he called urgently.

Tigerclaw, who had been all but ready to hurl himself at Barley, bounded over to Bluestar and sniffed at her wounds.

"Is there anything we can do?" Firepaw asked.

"She is in the paws of StarClan now," the great warrior meowed solemnly.

Firepaw's eyes widened. Did Tigerclaw mean that Bluestar was dead? He felt sick as he looked down at his leader's body. Was this what the spirits of the Moonstone had warned her about?

The other apprentices had joined Firepaw and Tigerclaw now and were staring at her, horror-struck. As time dragged on, Firepaw found himself silently pleading with StarClan to send his mentor back to them.

Finally, Bluestar stirred. The end of her tail twitched and she lifted her head.

"Bluestar?" Firepaw meowed, his voice trembling.

"It's alright," Bluestar rasped. "I am still here. I have lost a life, but it wasn't my ninth."

She forced herself to sit up, and as she did so, she caught sight of Firepaw's wounds. The ginger apprentice felt a twinge of shame as her blue eyes widened in horror. Despite the fact that she was no doubt still weak from losing a life, she dragged herself over to him and started licking his wounds clean. It stung, but there was something soothing about the gesture as well.

"Firepaw, you foolish, mouse-brained idiot," Bluestar hissed, though her tone wasn't nearly as harsh as her words. "I thought I told you not to get yourself in trouble."

"Well, I didn't exactly have a choice," Firepaw grumbled.

"Ravenpaw, fetch cobwebs for Bluestar and Firepaw. Graypaw, find marigold or horsetail," Tigerclaw ordered. The two apprentices nodded and dashed off. "Barley, I think you should leave us now."

Firepaw glanced over at the loner who had fought so bravely to help them. He wanted to thank him, but he didn't dare say a word in front of Tigerclaw. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Barley seemed to understand, for he nodded in return and left without saying anything more. Sandpaw padded over to Firepaw and studied him carefully, her pale green eyes filled with worry.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Did the rats really get you that badly?"

"Most of these are from Sunningrocks," Firepaw grunted. "And I'll be fine."

A few moments later, Ravenpaw and Graypaw returned with some cobwebs and a few horsetail and marigold leaves. Bluestar chewed up a few horsetail leaves and spat them onto Firepaw's wounds, while the former kittypet did the same for his friends. He knew from his lessons with Spottedleaf that they would stop an infection, but he still wished that he could have a real medicine cat to help.

"We'll rest here while you two recover," Tigerclaw announced.

Bluestar looked hesitant. Firepaw could tell that she was itching to get back to the camp–whatever StarClan had told her apparently had nothing to do with the rats–but she was worried about his injuries. Wanting to reassure her, he forced himself back to his paws, trying to ignore the stinging pain in his flanks.

"We can go back if we need to," he meowed. "I'll be fine."

His mentor looked him over. "Are you sure?" she murmured.

"Of course," Firepaw meowed with a lot more bravado than he felt. "We apprentices have more stamina than you think."

Bluestar hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. "We'll keep going, then."

She got to her paws as well and started walking down the dirt path, her muscles still rigid with pain. Tigerclaw padded alongside her, his face dark with unknowable thoughts. The apprentices exchanged anxious glances, then followed. Sandpaw and Graypaw stood on either side of Firepaw, making sure he didn't collapse.

Ahead, he thought he heard Tigerclaw whisper something to Bluestar, but he was too exhausted to listen to what it was. He padded on, in a daze of pain and weariness.

* * *

Sunhigh came and went as the cats made their way through WindClan's old hunting grounds. They were silent, all six of them still exhausted from the rat fight. The pain in Firepaw's body was worse than ever. He could see Graypaw limping occasionally, hopping on three paws to protect his injured back leg. But it was Bluestar who worried him the most. Her pace was even slower now, but she refused to stop and rest. The grim expression on her face, clouded by pain, told Firepaw how desperate she was to get back to their camp.

"Don't worry about ShadowClan warriors," she meowed through gritted teeth as Tigerclaw paused to sniff the air. "You won't find any here today."

_How does she know? _Firepaw wondered.

They made their way down the steep, rocky hillside that led towards Fourtrees and joined the familiar trail that led home. It was late afternoon, and Firepaw began to think longingly of his nest and a nice, long night of sleep.

"I can still smell the stench of ShadowClan," Sandpaw muttered to Firepaw as they padded through ThunderClan's hunting grounds.

"Do you think the breeze carried it over from WindClan territory?" he asked. He had picked up on the scent as well and his whiskers were trembling.

Suddenly, Ravenpaw stopped dead. "Can you hear that?"

Firepaw strained his ears. At first, he could only hear the familiar sounds of the forest. Then his blood ran cold. In the distance, he could hear battle-hungry yowls and the shrill squealing of terrified kits.

"Quick!" Bluestar howled. "It is as StarClan warned me. Our camp is being attacked!" She tried to leap forward but stumbled. She pushed herself up and limped onward.

Tigerclaw and Firepaw pelted forward side by side, with Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw following close behind, their tails fluffed out to twice their usual size. As he charged toward the camp, Firepaw forgot about his injuries. There was no time for pain right now. His only concern was to protect his Clan.

The sound of battle grew louder and louder as he neared the camp entrance, and the stench of ShadowClan stung his nostrils. He was right behind Tigerclaw as the returning cats dashed through the tunnel and into the clearing.

They were met by a frenzy of fighting as ThunderClan cats battled fiercely with ShadowClan warriors. He couldn't see any of the kits, and Firepaw raced over in the direction of the nursery to make sure they were alright. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen to little Cinderkit.

As he made his way towards the nursery, Firepaw found his path intercepted by a tabby warrior queen. She lunged at him, and he quickly slipped to the side before sinking his teeth deep into her leg. Yowling in pain, she turned and tried to slash at him with her claws, lunging at his neck with her teeth bared. He twisted and ducked to avoid her bite, giving her another slash across her belly that sent her howling into the thick undergrowth that surrounded the camp.

A terrified squeak snapped his attention back to the nursery. To his horror, he saw Blackfoot reaching out a huge black paw towards the kits. Cinderkit was trembling behind her brother, Brackenkit, her small gray body fluffed up to twice its usual size in fear. They shrunk away from the ShadowClan deputy, undefended now as their mothers fought the other ShadowClan warriors.

Firepaw prepared to leap forward to defend them, but a claw sliced painfully down his side and he whipped his head around to see a tortoiseshell queen leap on top of him. As he slammed down onto the ground, he was fortunate enough to be able to free one paw. His blood aflame with the fury of battle, he slashed his claws across the tortoiseshell's fae. She got off him at once, howling and screeching in pain all the way out of the camp.

"Firepaw!" Bluestar bounded over to him. "That's enough for you today. Go to the medicine den. This fight is almost over."

"No!" Firepaw refused adamantly. "I can do this. The kits–"

"Yellowfang is protecting them. She's driven Blackfoot off," Bluestar meowed. Firepaw glanced over to the nursery and saw that she was right. The old gray medicine cat was crouched protectively in front of the nursery, but Blackfoot was nowhere to be seen.

There were only a few ShadowClan warriors left in the camp now. Graypaw and Ravenpaw were battling side by side, nipping and slashing at a tom until he fled into the undergrowth. Whitestorm and Darkstripe drove the last two intruders out, sending them away with a few extra bites and scratches. Firepaw exhaled deeply and limped over to the nursery, where he was greeted enthusiastically by Cinderkit.

"Firepaw!" she squealed happily. "You're here! Did you see Yellowfang? She helped save us! She's so cool, just like you!"

"Well thank you, little one," Yellowfang huffed.

"How are they?" Bluestar asked, padding over to join them.

"Shaken up, but unhurt," Yellowfang replied. Glancing at Cinderkit, she added, "Well, _most _of them are shaken up."

Firepaw sighed in relief and sank onto the ground, his vision going fuzzy as dark spots began to appear before his eyes. With the adrenaline of battle now gone, the pain of his wounds was returning full force all at once. He thought he heard Bluestar's voice as, for the second time in his apprenticeship, he gave way to a tempting blackness.

* * *

**Looks like Yellowfang's got herself a fan, haha. I'll be honest, I'm having a ton of fun writing Cinderkit and Firepaw's friendship. Speaking of Firepaw, the boy seriously needs to learn when enough is enough. **

**The next chapter will deal with the consequences of the battle. I was going to add them in here, but I didn't want the chapter to drag on for too long. **

**Before I close out this note, I'm just going to take a brief moment to address a few reviews. I know a lot of you want Bluestar to tell Firepaw that she's his mother, and I'm sorry, but that won't happen until much, much later in the storyline. The reason for this is that Thistleclaw's story isn't quite finished, and his involvement plays a key role in Firepaw (Fireheart when it happens) discovering the truth. **

**However, I will promise that once everything is settled, Firepaw/heart will get a chance to meet Snowfur and Mosskit. On another note, it's my personal headcanon that Mosskit became Firestar's new sister in StarClan and the two of them spend their time pranking Bluestar. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	23. Changes

When Firepaw woke up next, he was slightly irritated but unsurprised to find himself back in the medicine den. He was even more unsurprised, though decidedly less annoyed, to find Bluestar sitting next to him, watching him with dull eyes that immediately brightened when she saw him awake.

"Bluestar–" Firepaw managed to meow before he found himself being half-suffocated by his mentor's fur as she tried to drown him in licks.

"I thought I'd lost you too," Bluestar whispered.

"I won't die that easily," Firepaw meowed back. By now, he had decided to just accept the fact that Bluestar was going to treat him like a kit forever–more specifically, treat him like _her _kit forever. Then another thought crossed his mind. "Wait, what do you mean _too_? What's happened?"

"Redtail and Lionheart were killed in the battle," Bluestar explained.

"No!" he gasped. _Poor Graypaw and Dustpaw. _

"I'm afraid so," Bluestar murmured. Her voice cracked with sadness, and now that Firepaw had a better look at her, he could see that she'd been crying recently. "Spottedleaf did her best to treat them, but it was too late. And then you...for three days...but thank StarClan you're not." She buried her muzzle into the young apprentice's head.

Firepaw suddenly felt extremely guilty. He wasn't sure why, considering he hadn't exactly done anything wrong.

"Now, I think you and I need to have a little talk," his mentor meowed, reverting back to her usual strict self before Firepaw could do so much as blink. "Firepaw, I told you before that you _have _to learn when enough is enough. Do you realize how lucky you are to be alive right now? Those rats almost killed you and then you went off and fought two bloody ShadowClan warriors! For StarClan's sake, I'm amazed you managed to survive."

"But I had to!" Firepaw protested. "They were attacking our camp. I couldn't just hide in the nursery like some sort of coward. Besides, _you _fought in the battle too even after you lost a life."

"That's different," Bluestar scolded him. "I'm a fully trained warrior and I've handled worse than that. You're barely older than a kit. And throwing yourself into battle when you're already hurt and will likely be killed is not bravery, Firepaw. It's foolish, stupid, mouse-brained, and I don't want to catch you doing it ever again."

Firepaw flinched at her harsh words. He looked down at the ground, feeling a current of resentment run through him. Didn't she understand that he had only been trying to do what was best for the Clan? The warrior code said that he was supposed to defend his Clan, even at the cost of his life. What did the life of one apprentice matter anyway? Why was Bluestar so insistent on smothering him?

"I know you wanted to help," she continued, her voice softening. "But think about what would have happened if you died, Firepaw. ThunderClan would have lost three warriors in one day. Do you think that would have made anything better?"

Firepaw hesitated. "I...no, I suppose not," he meowed reluctantly. Unable to stop himself, he continued, "But why do you _always _have to do this every time I get hurt? You didn't exactly freak out about the others fighting even though Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw were _also _hurt fighting the rats. What makes me so different?"

Bluestar seemed to struggle on the verge of speech, a myriad of emotions flickering across her face. Finally, she replied, "One day, you'll understand, Firepaw. But not now. Now isn't the right time."

Firepaw wasn't satisfied by that answer, but he could tell that Bluestar wasn't going to say anything more. Sighing in defeat, he nodded curtly and looked away, feeling that same twinge of resentment.

He heard Bluestar sigh and felt her tongue rasp over his ears. Despite himself, he found himself going boneless against her side and gave her a halfhearted glare for her tactics.

"So...who's the new deputy?" he asked, deciding it would be best to change the subject.

"Tigerclaw is," Bluestar answered.

"Tigerclaw?" Firepaw repeated, unable to hide his surprise. He knew that Tigerclaw was a great warrior, of course, but he would have expected her to choose Whitestorm. They always seemed to be a lot closer than Bluestar and Tigerclaw.

Bluestar seemed to read his thoughts, for she meowed, "I would have picked Whitestorm, but Tigerclaw is a more experienced warrior. Besides, I'd like to be able to ask for Whitestorm's counsel without his mind being distracted by other duties. Perhaps one day, his time to serve as the deputy will come, but for now, he'll perform just fine as a regular warrior."

Firepaw nodded, half-absentmindedly. So Tigerclaw was the new deputy of ThunderClan. Well, he supposed it wasn't the worst decision in the world. There was no denying that Tigerclaw was a formidable warrior. Having someone like him serving as deputy would no doubt send a message to the other Clans that ThunderClan was a force to be reckoned with.

"By the way, who's going to mentor Graypaw and Dustpaw now?" he asked curiously. He wasn't entirely sure why he cared, but he wanted to know nonetheless.

"Darkstripe is mentoring Dustpaw," Bluestar meowed. "And right now, Graypaw's training is being split between Tigerclaw and Whitestorm."

"Darkstripe," Firepaw groaned. "Fantastic. I can just imagine what their training sessions are going to be like. 'Now Dustpaw, what do we do when we see a kittypet on our territory? Dustpaw, pretend I'm Firepaw and attack me. Dustpaw, collect moss for the elders and then I'll show you a place where you can get some nice brambles to stick in that kittypet's nest'."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," his leader meowed, although her eyes were gleaming with amusement and sympathy. "It won't be that bad. Besides, you seem to deal with them just fine."

"Maybe, but if I ever end up in a training session with them, I won't be held accountable for my actions," Firepaw muttered. Bluestar rolled her eyes.

"Alright, I'll let you get some rest now. Spottedleaf should be back shortly, so let her check you over before you try running off anywhere," she warned him. Firepaw just nodded, too tired and sore to argue. "Good. Sleep well, Firepaw."

She turned and padded out of the den, leaving Firepaw to close his eyes and curl up in his temporary nest again. He knew he would no doubt be confined to camp again, but he was surprised to find that, for once, he didn't really mind the thought at all.

* * *

**Well, now Tigerclaw's the new deputy! Before anyone asks, no, he didn't kill Lionheart or Redtail. They were actually killed by ShadowClan warriors, though I don't know who. Clawface, maybe? **

**Next chapter is where things will really start to heat up in this arc, so stay tuned! **

**Thanks for reading, **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	24. Confinement, Again

Just as he'd expected, Spottedleaf ordered that Firepaw not venture out of camp for at least a quarter moon to let his injuries heal.

"It's for your own good," the pretty tortoiseshell told him. "Once your wounds are fully healed–and I do mean _fully _healed–you can go back to training and whatever else it is you apprentices get up to these days."

Having seen this coming, Firepaw decided not to complain. Besides, perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as last time. At least he had Cinderkit to keep him entertained. The young gray molly was more boisterous than ever, clearly suffering no lasting psychological damage from nearly being kidnapped by Blackfoot. More than once, Firepaw found himself caught up in a game of moss ball with Cinderkit and her siblings.

Graypaw and Dustpaw were still grieving over the loss of their mentors. Once he was released from Spottedleaf's den, Firepaw had made it a point to offer his condolences to his denmates.

"I'm sorry about Lionheart and Redtail," he had told them. Even if he wasn't fond of Dustpaw, he didn't deserve to lose Redtail like that, and Graypaw was his friend.

"Thanks, Firepaw," Graypaw had meowed quietly, while Dustpaw merely nodded. However, he had refrained from making any snide remarks, which Firepaw supposed was his own way of expressing gratitude.

The battle with ShadowClan had left a significant impact on the mood of the Clan as a whole. Everywhere Firepaw looked, it seemed that reinforcements were being made left and right. Losing two senior warriors in one battle, not to mention nearly losing their kits, had put everyone on edge. Tigerclaw seemed busier than ever and rarely took out Ravenpaw for training anymore, instead, leaving the task to Longtail and Darkstripe.

If there was one good thing that had come out of the battle against ShadowClan, it was that Yellowfang was now an official member of ThunderClan. After she had saved the kits from Blackfoot, Bluestar had rewarded her by making her a permanent member of the Clan. Most of the Clan were still wary of her, but Firepaw was pleased that his friend at least had his mentor's trust. He realized now just how much Bluestar's judgment meant to him.

But still, there was something weighing on Firepaw's mind. Why had Blackfoot been trying to steal Frostfur and Goldenflower's kits? Based on the demands Brokenstar had made at the last Gathering, it sounded as though ShadowClan already had an abundance of kits to care for. Why would any of their warriors try to steal kits from other Clans when they supposedly had too many mouths to feed?

_They drove out WindClan, which would fit his claim that they need more territory, _the flame-colored tom mused to himself. _But stealing kits wouldn't help their Clan if they already had too many mouths to feed. None of this makes any sense at all. _

Firepaw remembered the last Gathering and how Brokenstar had waited until then to ask for hunting rights from ThunderClan and RiverClan but hadn't shown WindClan the same courtesy. Had that been part of his plan all along? Brokenstar had probably been counting on either Crookedstar or Bluestar acquiescing to his demands for more territory. It was a risky gamble, but one that had ultimately paid off with Crookedstar's surrender.

_Which puts ThunderClan in a bad spot, _Firepaw realized. _Not only are we the only Clan left standing against Brokenstar, but our territory lies in between RiverClan and ShadowClan. If Brokenstar manages to convince Crookedstar to form an alliance with ShadowClan...then they can lead a joint attack on us and we'll be crushed. And since WindClan is gone, we wouldn't be able to ask them for help...but that still doesn't explain why they would want to steal our kits. _

He shook his head, letting out a quiet growl of frustration. It was beginning to look as though ShadowClan's motives were beyond his ability to comprehend. Deciding to put his worries to the back of his mind, for now, Firepaw stood up and padded over to the fresh-kill pile, deciding to take a piece of prey over to Yellowfang. He selected a small thrush and carried it over to the old molly, who nodded in thanks.

"Stuck in camp again?" she rasped an edge of humor to her voice.

"Yep," Firepaw sighed. "Sometimes I think Bluestar and Spottedleaf are determined to keep me here forever."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you fought well in the battle despite your wounds. You'll make a fine warrior one day," Yellowfang meowed.

"T-thank you," Firepaw stammered, startled at the unexpected praise from the normally grumpy queen. "Congratulations on becoming a member of ThunderClan, by the way."

"It's going to take a while before your idiot Clanmates will trust me," Yellowfang acknowledged. "But I'm grateful to Bluestar for offering me a place here. She was worried about you," she added, giving him a keen stare. "I don't think I've ever seen a mentor so distressed over their apprentice. What is it with you and her anyway?"

Firepaw shifted about uncomfortably. "I don't really know," he admitted. "I guess it's just how she is."

He hesitated for a moment, then meowed, "Yellowfang, I don't mean to be intrusive, but...there's something I need to know."

"Go on," the old gray molly agreed, nodding for him to continue.

"Well, it's just that...in the battle, Blackfoot looked as though he were trying to _steal _our kits, not harm them or kill them," Firepaw explained, searching for a way to express his worries without offending the former ShadowClan medicine cat. "But at the Gathering, Brokenstar made it sound as though there were too many mouths to feed in ShadowClan. And then there was the fact that he obviously lied about you...so I just need to know, what exactly is going on? You were once of ShadowClan; you _must _know something."

He hoped that, with her admission into ThunderClan, that Yellowfang might be a little more willing to betray her former Clan's secrets. Fortunately, after a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"I'll tell you as much as I know," she rasped. "But not now. Not while everyone else is still awake. Come speak to me tonight and I'll tell you everything then."

Firepaw nodded gratefully and raced back toward the apprentices' den, his mind whirling as he curled up in his nest. Finally, he was going to find out the truth behind ShadowClan's behavior–but a part of him wasn't sure if he was ready to hear it.


	25. ShadowClan's Secret

That night, Firepaw crept out of the apprentices' den and padded silently over to Yellowfang, careful not to accidentally disturb any of his Clanmates. The old gray molly was waiting for him, her orange eyes shining in the darkness as she watched him approach her. Once he reached her, she beckoned with her tail for him to follow her behind the nursery. There, she sat down and turned to face him with her tail curled over her paws.

"Right," she meowed quietly. "What is it you want to know?"

"Er–well, as much as you can tell me," Firepaw replied hesitantly. "But mostly about why ShadowClan would try to steal kits when they supposedly have too many mouths to feed–and why Brokenstar would exile you and claim that you're a danger to kits."

Yellowfang nodded slowly. "I'll start with something simple, then," she meowed, although Firepaw doubted that there was anything _simple _about any of this. "Forgive my bluntness, but the reason ShadowClan tried to steal the kits was that they don't have enough of their own. In fact, they likely don't have enough because of what Brokenstar did to them."

"What Brokenstar did?" the ginger apprentice repeated in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"He takes kits from their mother's belly at three moons old and trains them as apprentices. At five moons, he sends them out as warriors," the former ShadowClan medicine cat meowed gravely.

"_What?_" Firepaw exclaimed, staring at his friend in disbelief. "But isn't that against the warrior code?"

"That doesn't matter to Brokenstar," Yellowfang scoffed. "He's always been all about power. But his training is too hard on the kits–they aren't meant to be able to handle battle training at that age–and most of them end up killed. He brought two of them to me once. They bore the claw marks and bites of full-grown warriors, not apprentices. When their mother came to see them, he told her that he'd found me standing over their bodies."

Firepaw started at Yellowfang, shocked. "Is that when...?"

"Yes," the old molly answered.

Firepaw was horrified. He had suspected that Brokenstar was up to no good, but never in nine lifetimes could he have imagined that a leader would kill kits of their own Clan. But he remembered how small the ShadowClan apprentices at the Gathering had been. They weren't just small, they were kits. And Blackfoot's attempt at stealing Cinderkit and her siblings would certainly fit Yellowfang's story.

"We have to do something, then!" he declared, feeling a rush of determination. "We can't let Brokenstar keep getting away with this."

Yellowfang snorted. "And what do you suggest we do, apprentice?" she inquired bitterly. "Brokenstar is feared by all Clans. And even if he wasn't, he still has a following of several strong warriors. You can't expect to just walk into ShadowClan's camp and deal with him."

"Bluestar doesn't seem that scared of him," Firepaw pointed out.

"And do you think she would be pleased if she found out you snuck off on a suicide mission?" the gray medicine cat countered.

Firepaw opened his mouth to respond, then immediately shut it in frustration. Yellowfang was right, he realized, Bluestar would be devastated if he let himself get killed so soon after the Clan had lost Lionheart and Redtail. But at the same time, now that he knew the truth, he couldn't just sit back and wait for ShadowClan to strike again.

"They're going to come back." It wasn't a question, but Yellowfang nodded anyway.

"Yes, undoubtedly so," she replied.

"But you want me to let it go," Firepaw meowed, guessing it would be next to impossible for him.

"I'm _telling _you to let it go," Yellowfang meowed sternly. "Or," she added, "at least until your injuries have healed a bit more. _Then _we can talk about how to deal with Brokenstar and his band of rogue followers."

Firepaw wasn't entirely pleased with that response, but he sensed that it wouldn't do him any good to argue. Dipping his head to Yellowfang, he turned and padded out from behind the nursery. The camp was still lifeless, utterly silent except for the occasional snore coming from the warriors' den. Briefly, he wondered who could be snoring loud enough to reach all the way across the camp.

He started to walk back to the apprentices' den, but paused halfway there and veered sharply toward the gorse tunnel. After his talk with Yellowfang, he didn't think he would be able to get to sleep that night. Quietly, he padded out of the camp and headed towards the forest, intent on catching a bit of prey before the dawn patrol awoke. At least then he would have something to show for his absence.

As he approached Snakerocks, Firepaw's ears picked up a faint scuffling sound among the leaves. Glancing around, he spotted a mouse burrowing around in some foliage, perhaps looking for a midnight snack. Silently, wincing as his injuries screamed in protest, he lowered himself into the hunting crouch and began to pad forward lightly, keeping his pawsteps as light as possible. Quickly, before the mouse had time to detect him, he pounced and gave it a sharp bite to the back of the neck, killing it instantly.

_Yes! _Firepaw cheered silently, then added, _Ow_, as his injuries throbbed painfully.

Glancing up at the sky, he saw that the moon was still barely past its peak. There would be plenty of time to catch a few more pieces of prey before he had to return to the camp. Setting down his mouse, he scraped a bit of dirt over it to protect it from any wild animals and carried on his way.

It wasn't long before Firepaw scented out and spotted another mouse, this one lurking just beneath a large tree. He dropped down into the hunting crouch again and began to pad forward, still making sure to keep wary of his footsteps. This time, the mouse sensed him at the last second, but he managed to capture and kill it before it had the chance to escape.

But this time, Firepaw didn't have time to celebrate his catch. As he set the mouse down to bury it, he heard a voice meow from behind him, "And what do you think you're doing out here?"

"Whitestorm!" Firepaw exclaimed, spinning around to face the large white tom. "I, uh, I was just–"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to report you to Bluestar," Whitestorm purred, a note of amusement entering his voice. His tone grew serious as he added, "But you shouldn't be out here alone, Firepaw, especially not this late at night. There are owls in ThunderClan territory, you know."

"I know," the flame-colored tom meowed, feeling slightly defensive. "But I was fine. I just couldn't sleep, so I decided to go out for a bit of a hunt." Then he frowned. "Wait, what are you doing out here?"

"I saw you leaving the camp," the older warrior informed him. "And I wasn't about to tell Bluestar that something had happened to her–_apprentice_–so I decided to follow you."

Firepaw frowned slightly. Not at the revelation that Whitestorm had been following him, but because he sensed that "apprentice" hadn't been his first choice of words. He wondered if something was being kept from him and if it had anything to do with Bluestar's nearly suffocating overprotectiveness.

"Let's get back home before the others wake up," Whitestorm suggested. "We'll take your mice home and add them to the fresh-kill pile. But we'll have to hurry if we want to get back before Bluestar wakes up."

Firepaw nodded and the two cats walked back to the camp, pausing momentarily to allow the young apprentice to pick up his mice. The sky was indeed beginning to grow lighter, and they only just managed to make it back before anyone else woke up. Nodding a respectful goodbye to Whitestorm, Firepaw dropped his mice into the fresh-kill pile before heading over to the apprentices' den. He was rather worn out now and thankful, for once, that he didn't have any duties ahead of him that day.

* * *

**Well, now Firepaw knows the truth about ShadowClan and soon he'll be hatching a plan to stop them! Because since when does he listen to anyone when it comes to his safety? **

**You'd think with all the hints everyone's been dropping that Firepaw would also figure out the truth about Bluestar...but that's our favorite fire boi, isn't it? Always completely clueless unless it's convenient. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	26. Kidnapped and Murdered

Slowly but surely, Firepaw's injuries began to heal. He spent most of his time in camp, so the recovery process was a bit faster than when he'd nearly died battling at Sunningrocks. Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw kept him entertained with stories of their training adventures, and Cinderkit was always pleasant company. Eventually, Firepaw recovered enough that Bluestar allowed him to go out for hunting patrols, although he was told to keep any battle training to a minimum.

The ginger apprentice spent a few hunting sessions with Tigerclaw and Ravenpaw, and it was clear that something had changed in the tabby warrior. Although never especially friendly, he seemed colder and more distant now. He rarely laughed or even seemed amused by Firepaw's stories now, instead choosing to tell him to stop wasting time and take his training seriously, and he also seemed much more at ease with ordering cats around and threatening punishment for the slightest misdemeanor. Firepaw suspected that he was just stressed out from the extra work of being Clan deputy, but that didn't stop him from getting annoyed on several occasions.

One day, Firepaw received the news that Brindleface's kits had been born and everyone was taking turns meeting them. Bluestar was visiting her now, so Firepaw decided to see Yellowfang while he waited for his turn. The former ShadowClan medicine cat was sitting by her nest, grooming her fur. She still wasn't the most hygienic cat by any means, but she was at least less matted and unkempt than when she'd first been brought to ThunderClan.

"Firepaw," she meowed when she saw him coming. "Are you going in to see the new kits?"

"In a bit," he replied. "What about you?"

Yellowfang shook her head. "I don't think I'd be very welcome," she growled.

"But they know you saved the kits from Blackfoot," Firepaw pointed out.

"A queen is very protective of her newborn litter. I think I'll stay away," Yellowfang replied in a voice that invited no argument.

Firepaw dipped his head. "Suit yourself," he meowed. "I'll go see them and then I'll bring you a piece of prey later."

"You do that, Firepaw," the old gray molly meowed tiredly, resting her head on her paws and closing her eyes. Firepaw thought she was asleep until she meowed, "Oh, and Firepaw, I hope you haven't gotten any ideas into your head about ShadowClan."

"No, Yellowfang," the flame-pelted apprentice replied, only half-lying. He _had _been trying to come up with ideas on how to stop Brokenstar, but none of them were reasonably workable.

He turned and padded away towards the nursery, arriving just as Bluestar was pushing her way out. Whitestorm was standing guard by the entrance and nodded to Firepaw as he came closer.

"Firepaw," Bluestar greeted him. "Have you come to meet ThunderClan's newest warriors?"

"Yes, Bluestar," Firepaw replied, feeling slightly surprised. Her tone sounded weary and almost sad, and her eyes, though filled with warmth as she looked at him, seemed slightly duller than usual.

"Well, when you're done, come see me in my den," the ThunderClan leader meowed, turning away and padding towards the Highrock.

Firepaw watched his leader go for a moment before turning around and pushing his way into the nursery. Brindleface was lying down in her nest, four small kittens suckling at her belly. The tabby queen looked exhausted, but her eyes were glowing with pride.

"They're gorgeous," Firepaw breathed, looking down at the tiny kittens with wonder.

"Thank you, dear," Brindleface purred.

"If Cinderkit is any indication, Firepaw will be great friends with your little ones," Goldenflower meowed from her own nest. Brindleface meowed in agreement.

"What are their names?" Firepaw asked, trying to suppress a twinge of embarrassment.

"The pale gray molly is named Fernkit," Brindleface meowed, touching one kit with the tip of her tail. "And the pale gray toms are Ashkit and Tulipkit. The dark gray tom is named Elderkit."

Firepaw talked with Brindleface for a few more moments before meowing goodbye to her and leaving the nursery. He passed by Dustpaw on the way out and was surprised to see the older apprentice until he remembered that Brindleface was his sister, although born in a different litter. Flicking his ear in greeting, he strode past the brown tabby and headed for Bluestar's den. Longtail was standing guard outside but took no notice of Firepaw as he pushed his way through the curtain of lichen.

"Ah, Firepaw," Bluestar greeted him.

"Hello, Bluestar," Firepaw meowed. "Brindleface's kits are lovely."

His mentor looked serious. "Lovely they may be, but their births mean more mouths to feed and the Clan will have a hard time sustaining itself come leaf-bare." She noticed Firepaw frown at her tone. "Oh, don't mind me. The first cold wind always worries me. How have you been doing?"

"Better," Firepaw answered. "Though Tigerclaw's being a grump lately."

"So I've heard," Bluestar meowed in amusement. "There was a time, when Tigerclaw was a young warrior, that I feared for the strength of his passion. Such energy can often need careful channeling. But now I am proud to see how much respect the Clan has for him. I know he is ambitious, but his ambition makes him one of the bravest cats I have ever had the honor to fight alongside."

"He is," the ginger apprentice agreed. "Although I'd like nothing more than to swallow him sometimes."

Bluestar's eyes sparkled with laughter. "Oh dear. Adolescence in full swing, I see." Firepaw pouted, and she added, "Or not. You still act like a kit, I see."

"Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional," Firepaw replied haughtily, and Bluestar chuckled.

Her next words were quiet and full of concern. "You know Brokenstar will return. He made it clear at the Gathering that he wants hunting rights in all territories."

"We fought him off once. We can do it again," Firepaw insisted.

"That is true," Bluestar acknowledged, licking his forehead. "StarClan will honor your courage, little one." She paused to lick a healing wound in her side. "I think you should know that in the battle with the rats, it was not my fifth life I lost, but my seventh."

Firepaw sat bolt upright, shocked.

Bluestar went on. "I have let the Clan believe that it was my fifth life because I don't want them to fear for my safety. But two more lives, and I will have to leave you to join StarClan."

Her eyes traveled over Firepaw's face for a moment, and for a brief moment, her expression filled with longing and sorrow. But it was gone before he could be entirely sure of what he saw.

"Thank you for telling me this, Bluestar," he purred respectfully.

Bluestar nodded. "I am tired now," she rasped. "Off you go. And Firepaw, I don't expect you to repeat this conversation to anyone."

"Of course, Bluestar," Firepaw replied as he nosed his way out of the curtain of lichen.

Longtail was still sitting by the entrance. Firepaw pushed his way past him, his mind spinning. He wasn't sure which part of his conversation with Bluestar had been more confusing.

He was stopped in his tracks by a yowl of horror coming from the nursery. Frostfur came sprinting into the clearing, her fur bristling and her eyes wide with alarm. "My kits! Someone has taken my kits!"

Tigerclaw bounded over to her. He called to the Clan, "Quick, search the camp! Whitestorm, stay where you are. Warriors, patrol the camp boundary. Apprentices, search every den."

Firepaw rushed to the nearest den, the warriors', and pushed his way inside. It was empty. He scrabbled through a few nests, but there was no sign of Frostfur's kits anywhere. Every hair on his pelt stuck up on end. There was no denying it. ShadowClan had to be involved with this.

_But if they did take the kits, chances are, they're not here anymore. _

He scanned the clearing for Yellowfang, spotting her pushing her way through a patch of fern wall. Assuming she had found a scent, Firepaw raced over just as she was disappearing into the greenery. By the time he had arrived, she had gone. There was no trace of kit-scent, just the bitter smell of Yellowfang's fear.

Tigerclaw's yowl sounded from the bushes behind the nursery. All the cats raced over to him, headed by Frostfur. They crowded as close as they could, jostling to see through the dense undergrowth. Firepaw nosed his way forward and found Tigerclaw standing over a motionless bundle of dappled fur.

_Spottedleaf!_

Firepaw stared in disbelief at his medicine mentor's lifeless body. Fury rose in him like a dark cloud, and he felt the blood roaring in his ears. Who had done this?

Bluestar stepped forward and leaned over the medicine cat. "She has been killed by a warrior blow," she meowed softly. There was a single wound on the back of Spottedleaf's neck.

He shook his head, tossing his grief away. Now wasn't the time for weakness. He _knew _where the kits had been taken–maybe he didn't know exactly who took them, but he knew where they were going–and he needed to catch up to Yellowfang. Turning around, he began pushing his way through the throng of cats when a murmur started up from the back, which slowly grew into a single piercing yowl.

"Yellowfang is gone!"

_Yes, so let me get through, you mouse-brains! _Firepaw thought in exasperation, still trying to push his way past his Clanmates.

"Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and taken my kits!" Frostfur screeched. The other queens crowded around her and tried to comfort her with caresses and licks, but she pushed them aside and wailed her grief to the darkening sky. As if in response, the sky rumbled ominously, and a cold wind ruffled the cats' fur.

"No, no she didn't!" Firepaw meowed quickly. He knew he was inviting trouble for himself by speaking up, but he couldn't let the Clan believe that Yellowfang had murdered Spottedleaf and stolen Cinderkit and her siblings. Not when she was their only hope of getting them back.

"How would you know?" Speckletail demanded, rounding on him.

Firepaw forced himself to meet her gaze. "I saw her leaving before Tigerclaw found Spottedleaf," he replied. "She didn't have the kits with her, nor was there any scent of them when I went over to see where she was going."

He could see the queens' fur beginning to lie flat. "Do you know where she went?" Goldenflower asked. She was calmer than the rest of the queens, though her eyes betrayed her worry.

"I do," Firepaw replied steadily. "She told me, after the battle with ShadowClan that...but there isn't time now. Whoever took Frostfur's kits will probably have gotten where they need to go by now."

"Bluestar!" Darkstripe called out. "What do you say?"

"We don't know that she didn't kill Spottedleaf," Tigerclaw growled. "Just because she didn't take the kits doesn't mean she isn't involved."

"Check yourself, then," Firepaw snapped, losing what little patience he had left. "It will only take a couple of heartbeats. Get a good sniff and you'll be able to discern whether Yellowfang killed her or not."

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes at him, but Bluestar nodded to Mousefur, who padded over and sniffed at Spottedleaf's body. The dusky brown queen lifted her head after a moment and shook her head.

"Firepaw is correct. Spottedleaf was not killed by Yellowfang," she meowed, and a murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd.

"Alright, so you're right," Tigerclaw meowed, turning to face the younger tom. "But how do you know about what happened? What has Yellowfang been telling you? And how are you so certain about where the kits have gone?"

But Firepaw ignored him, turning instead to face Bluestar. "Bluestar," he meowed urgently. "I have to go. I don't know how far Yellowfang has gotten now, but I need to catch up to her."

Bluestar hesitated for a moment. Her gaze swept over Spottedleaf's body before landing on Firepaw, and the flame-colored cat saw just how much she wanted to refuse. He met her gaze as steadily as he could, showing her that he had no intention of backing down. There was no choice; he _had _to do this, for Spottedleaf, but also for Cinderkit and her siblings, for all the kits who had been murdered by Brokenstar and all those who would continue to suffer under his reign. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to take down ShadowClan, maybe his injuries would get in the way again, but whatever he had in him now would just have to be enough. She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

"Very well," she meowed softly. "But you're not going alone. Whitestorm, Mousefur, and Darkstripe, you three go with him as well."

The three warriors nodded, then Sandpaw stepped forward.

"I'm going too," she insisted. "Those kits are my kin."

"Me too," Graypaw meowed grimly.

"And me," Ravenpaw insisted. He looked slightly more apprehensive than his denmates, but his voice rang out with determination.

They turned to look at Dustpaw, but the tabby apprentice narrowed his eyes. "If you four want to chase after a traitor, be my guest," he sneered. "I'm staying here."

"Fine," Firepaw snapped back. "We weren't going to invite a coward like you anyway."

"Go now, all of you," Bluestar meowed, breaking up the argument before it could escalate further.

Firepaw turned and followed Whitestorm as he led the patrol of cats towards the gorse tunnel. Just before they reached it, his ears pricked as he heard Frostfur calling out to him.

"Firepaw!" the white-furred queen called, bounding over to him. He turned to face her.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked worriedly.

Frostfur met his gaze steadily. "I'm counting on you," she meowed firmly. "Bring my kits back home safe."

Firepaw dipped his head to her. "I won't rest until we've found them," he promised solemnly.

_For you and for Cinderkit...and for Lionheart and Redtail, who died to protect us from the Clan who stole your children. For Spottedleaf, who was like a sister to me and taught me everything I know about healing, and for Yellowfang, driven from one Clan because of false accusations and now stands to risk being chased out of another. I promise I won't rest until your kits are back home and the cats responsible for this are gone. _


	27. Rescuing The Kits

A steady rain had begun to fall as the cats padded through the forest. Whitestorm had allowed Firepaw to take the lead, and with the help of Sandpaw, the former kittypet managed to track Yellowfang's scent all the way to the ShadowClan border. They paused at the border, hesitating slightly. The scent had almost been washed away by the rain, but they could still pick it up from the other side.

"That's ShadowClan territory," Darkstripe growled. "I'm not going in there."

"You don't have a choice," Firepaw snapped back. "If you want to help get Frostfur's kits back, you're going to have to cross the border."

"So ShadowClan has taken the kits?" Mousefur asked.

"You saw what Blackfoot tried to do when ShadowClan invaded our camp," Firepaw reminded her. "They were trying to steal them back then too. And I know why–Yellowfang told me everything."

"What did she tell you?" Whitestorm asked calmly.

Firepaw could feel every cat's gaze on him. He took a deep breath. Now was the time, to tell the truth at last. He had been planning on waiting until they found Yellowfang to let her explain, but with Darkstripe behaving as hostilely as he was, he had to tell them everything he knew now.

"Do you remember at the last Gathering when Brokenstar said that ShadowClan had too many kits to care for?" the flame-colored apprentice asked. The cats around him all nodded. "He lied. ShadowClan doesn't have too many kits–as a matter of fact, they don't have _enough _kits. Because–because Brokenstar killed them. Yellowfang told me...he takes them away from their mothers too young and trains them. Even before they reach six moons, he sends them out as warriors."

His Clanmates stared at him, horrified. Then Darkstripe spoke up again.

"How do you know she was being truthful?" he asked aggressively.

"It's not for you to understand," Firepaw snapped back, at his wit's end with Tigerclaw's lackey. "I already told you that Blackfoot was trying to steal the kits when ShadowClan attacked us, which you would know if you cared to listen. Yellowfang was driven from ShadowClan because Brokenstar framed her for the murder of their kits. He told a queen that he had found her standing over the kits' dead bodies."

"So that's why he tried to warn us about her at the last Gathering?" Sandpaw guessed.

"Yes," Firepaw answered grimly.

Whitestorm nodded solemnly. "Thank you for telling us this, Firepaw," the white warrior meowed. "Now we know that Yellowfang is innocent."

Firepaw dipped his head respectfully, breathing a silent sigh of relief. At least he had managed to convince his Clanmates of Yellowfang's innocence. He saw that Darkstripe didn't seem too convinced, but he was smart enough not to voice his displeasure this time.

The patrol raced across the Thunderpath and into ShadowClan territory. The scent markers around the border made Firepaw's fur tingle. They prowled around, alert to every scent and sound. Whitestorm and Mousefur kept watch for any ShadowClan patrols, and Firepaw, Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw scouted about for any sign of Yellowfang or the kits.

Yellowfang's scent trail led them steadily into the heart of ShadowClan's hunting grounds. The woods here were gloomy, the undergrowth covered in nettles and brambles.

"I can't smell her," Graypaw complained. "It's too wet."

"It's there," Sandpaw reassured him. She was easily the best tracker among them and could pick up Yellowfang's scent without much issue.

"I can smell _that_, though," the gray apprentice growled suddenly.

"What?" Firepaw asked. But then he picked it up too. "Kits! There's kit blood here! Whitestorm, Mousefur, we've found the trail!"

The two warriors bounded over to them, followed by Darkstripe. Whitestorm took the lead, and the cats followed the trail to a blackened ash tree. Yellowfang was sheltering behind the wide, split trunk.

"Yellowfang!" Firepaw called out to his friend. "It's me, Firepaw. We've come to help."

There was a moment's hesitation, then Yellowfang padded out from her shelter. "I was expecting ThunderClan to attack me," she growled, with a slight trace of her old hostility.

"Firepaw convinced us otherwise," Sandpaw replied.

The old molly's eyes cleared. "Ah," she meowed. "So he did. You certainly make for a clever apprentice, young Firepaw."

"Thank you," Firepaw replied, slightly impatient. "But now isn't the time. Are the kits here?"

"No," Yellowfang meowed, shaking her head. "I stopped too because I smelled kit blood. But they're not here, and I know who took them."

"Who?" Mousefur asked.

"Clawface, one of Brokenstar's followers. I smelled his scent near the nursery."

She turned to face Whitestorm next. "We don't have much time," she rasped. "By now, Clawface has likely reached the camp. I might be able to gather some reinforcements who can help you rescue your kits. Wait here and I'll be back shortly."

With that, she turned and disappeared around the ash tree. Firepaw watched her go, willing her to return quickly. The longer they had to wait, the more likely it was that Cinderkit and her siblings would be harmed–or worse. He sat down and curled his tail around his paws, willing time to pass by faster.

"Well, this is brilliant," Darkstripe scoffed. "Relying on an enemy warrior for help, and likely a traitor at that." He glared at Firepaw. "How are we supposed to know that you're not in line with her?"

"Shut it, Dirtstripe," Firepaw hissed, springing to his feet. "I don't care what you think about my birthplace. You have _no _right to question my loyalty. I know more about what's going on than you, so I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you."

"Calm down, both of you," Whitestorm ordered. "Darkstripe, we have to trust Yellowfang and Firepaw on this. You were at the camp earlier; it's already confirmed that she didn't kill Spottedleaf or steal Frostfur's kits. If you don't want to help, leave."

Darkstripe flattened his ears but remained where he was. Firepaw rolled his eyes and pointedly turned his back on the older cat, purring slightly as Sandpaw came to sit down beside him. He sat down again, his heart beating faster with each passing moment. Finally, after what felt like moons of waiting, Yellowfang finally reappeared. She was accompanied by three other ShadowClan warriors, all of them looking nearly as unkempt as Yellowfang had appeared on her first day in ThunderClan.

Eventually, a gray tom spoke up. His long body was skinny and his fur looked dull. "We have come to help you, not harm you. You have come for your kits; we will help you rescue them."

"What's in it for you?" Whitestorm asked warily.

"We want you to help get rid of Brokenstar. He has broken the warrior code, and ShadowClan is suffering."

Yellowfang stood up. "Let me introduce my old friends," she meowed. She brushed around the gray tom. "This is Ashfur, one of the Clan's elders."

"And this is Nightpelt, a senior warrior before Raggedstar was killed." She circled around a battered black tom, who nodded at them.

"And this is one of our elder queens, Dawncloud. Two of her kits died driving out WindClan."

Dawncloud, a small tabby, meowed in greeting. "I do not wish to lose any more of my kits."

"Will all of you be enough?" Whitestorm asked, eyeing the ShadowClan cats. Firepaw privately agreed though he kept his opinions to himself.

"The old and sick of ShadowClan are slowly starving," Ashfur meowed. "The deaths of our kits are more than the Clan can cope with."

"But if ShadowClan is such a mess," Darkstripe burst out, "then why have you shown so much strength lately? And why does your Clan still continue to follow Brokenstar?"

"Brokenstar is surrounded by a small group of elite warriors," Ashfur replied. "They are the ones to fear because they would die for him without question. The other warriors only obey his orders because they are frightened. They will fight by his side as long as they think Brokenstar could win. If they thought that he would lose..."

"Then they would fight against him, not for him!" Darkstripe finished scornfully. "What sort of loyalty is that?"

"Probably the same one as you since you apparently know so much about it," Firepaw muttered, loud enough for the ShadowClan cats to hear but soft enough that Darkstripe didn't pick up what he'd said. Out loud, he asked, "Is there any way for us to get the kits back without alerting the rest of the Clan?"

Dawncloud answered him, "The kits are very closely guarded. Brokenstar will be expecting ThunderClan to try to get them back. You won't be able to steal them in secret. An open attack is your only hope."

"Then we must concentrate our attack on Brokenstar and his inner guard," meowed Whitestorm.

"I have a plan," Yellowfang rasped. "The ShadowClan warriors should take me into the camp. They should say that they have captured me. We have to make sure that Brokenstar and his warriors are out of their dens. News of my capture will bring them into the clearing. Once they're all out in the open, I'll give my signal for you to attack."

Whitestorm was silent for a moment. Then he nodded, his face grave as he committed his warriors to the attack. "Very well, Yellowfang. Please lead the way to the ShadowClan camp."

* * *

Yellowfang turned and pushed her way into the undergrowth. Whitestorm and the others followed her.

Firepaw was tingling with excitement. He didn't feel the damp chill in the air, and his quarrel with Darkstripe was long forgotten.

Yellowfang guided them to a small hollow surrounded by thick undergrowth and pointed out the entrance to the ShadowClan camp. The tangled mass of brambles looked very different from the neat gorse tunnel that led into the ThunderClan camp. The camp boundary was full of holes and the stench of rotting meat wafted towards them.

"You eat _crowfood?_" Graypaw whispered, curling his lip.

"Our warriors are used for attacking, not hunting," answered Ashfur. "We eat whatever we can find."

"ThunderClan, hide in that clump of bracken over there," Yellowfang hissed. "It's full of toadstools that will disguise your scent. Wait here till you hear me call."

She stepped back to let ShadowClan lead the way, settling herself into the center of their group so it would look as though she were their prisoner. The ThunderClan warriors settled themselves amongst the toadstools, tense, and alert. Firepaw could feel his fur prickling. Beside him, Graypaw was panting with excitement and Sandpaw kept her ears pricked. Ravenpaw's tail flicked nervously, but his eyes were sharp and alert.

Suddenly, yowling erupted from the ShadowClan camp. Without hesitating, the ThunderClan cats sprang from their hiding places and raced through the entrance.

Yellowfang, Ashfur, Dawncloud, and Nightpelt were in a well-trodden, muddy clearing, wrestling with six vicious-looking warriors. Firepaw recognized Brokenstar and his deputy, Blackfoot, among them. The warriors looked hungry and battle-scarred, but he could see the hard muscles pounding beneath their patchy fur.

Around the clearing, groups of scrawny cats stared uncertainly at the mayhem. Their skinny bodies seemed to recoil at the violence while their dull eyes looked on, shocked and confused. Out of the corner of his eye, Firepaw saw Runningnose back away and hide beneath a bush. At Whitestorm's nodded signal, the ThunderClan cats leaped into battle.

Firepaw grasped a silver tabby with his hind claws but was shaken loose. Not to be deterred, he rolled away just as he turned on him, claws as sharp as blackthorns missing him by inches. He leaped onto his back once more, this time finding a solid grip, and flipped him over. Firepaw sank his teeth deep into his flesh, and the warrior's yowl told him he had found a tender spot. He bit harder, and the warrior screeched again, wrestling himself free and fleeing into the bushes.

Firepaw stood up. A young ShadowClan apprentice leaped at him from the edge of the camp, his soft kitten fur fluffed up in fear. He sheathed his claws and batted him away easily.

"This is not your battle," he growled.

Whitestorm already had Blackfoot pinned to the ground. He gave the ShadowClan deputy a vicious bite and the injured tom raced away toward the camp entrance and out into the safety of the forest. A few tail-lengths away, Darkstripe and Mousefur tag-teamed a tortoiseshell molly and sent her fleeing after Blackfoot as well.

"Firepaw!" He heard Dawncloud screech his name. "Watch out! Clawface is–"

Firepaw didn't hear the rest as a heavily built brown cat crashed into him. For a moment, the wind was knocked out of him, and he didn't have time to recover before Clawface dealt a hard blow to his flank. Wincing in pain, he struggled to his feet again, only to be knocked over once more.

"Fight someone your own size!" Sandpaw screeched, racing over and knocking into Clawface. She raked her claws down his flank, and Firepaw recovered enough to deal a blow of his own to the ShadowClan warrior's nose. He howled in pain, and while he was distracted, Sandpaw gave him a bite that sent him screeching out of the camp.

"Thanks for that, Sandpaw," Firepaw gasped.

"Anytime," she replied, turning to assist Ravenpaw in fighting off the last of Brokenstar's warriors.

An angry screech sounded from behind Graypaw. Graypaw leaped out of the way and Firepaw saw Yellowfang gripping Brokenstar with muddy, bloodstained paws. His body bled from several wounds. His ears were flattened against his head and his whiskers were drawn back as he crouched, flattened beneath Yellowfang's grip.

"I never thought you would be harder to kill than my father!" he snarled up at her.

Yellowfang recoiled, her face twisted by shock and grief. She released her grip on Brokenstar, and he flung her aside with a powerful twist of his body.

"_You _killed Raggedstar?" Yellowfang wailed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Brokenstar eyed her coldly. "You found his body. Didn't you recognize my fur between his claws?" Yellowfang stared at him in horror as he continued, "He was a soft and foolish leader. He deserved to die."

"No!" Yellowfang hissed, her head dropping. Then she gave herself a shake and looked up at Brokenstar, arching her back. "And Brightflower's kits? Did they deserve to die too?"

Brokenstar growled and hurled himself at Yellowfang, forcing her onto her belly. Yellowfang didn't even attempt to struggle against his thorn-sharp claws. Firepaw saw with alarm that her eyes were glazed with sadness.

"Those kits were weak," the ShadowClan leader hissed. "They would have been no use to ShadowClan. If I hadn't killed them, some other warrior would have instead."

A wail of grief went up from a black and white ShadowClan queen. Brokenstar ignored her. "I should have killed _you _when I had the chance," he spat at Yellowfang. "It seems I must have some of my father's softness. I was a fool to let you leave ShadowClan alive!" He lunged, teeth bared, ready to sink them into her neck.

Firepaw was quicker. He jumped onto Brokenstar's back before he could clamp his jaws shut. Digging his claws into the matted tabby fur, he pulled him off the exhausted queen, flinging him to the edge of the clearing.

Brokenstar spun around in midair to land on his feet and looked into Firepaw's eyes, spitting viciously. "Don't waste your time, apprentice! I've shared dreams with StarClan. You'll have to kill me nine times over before I join them. Do you really think you have the strength for that?"

Firepaw narrowed his eyes, hissing back at the ShadowClan leader. He wasn't stupid; he knew there was no way he could kill a Clan leader, although he doubted that Brokenstar truly had all nine lives left. But the watching ShadowClan cats had begun to creep toward their defeated leader, hissing and snarling with hatred. They were battered and half-starved, but Brokenstar was outnumbered, and he seemed to realize this with a nervous flick of his tail. He crouched and backed away into the bushes. His eyes glittered menacingly from the shadows, his eyes finding Firepaw among the crowd.

"This isn't over, apprentice," he hissed before turning away and fleeing after his broken warriors.

Firepaw looked to Whitestorm. "Should we go after them?" he asked.

Whitestorm shook his head. "I think they got the message that they are not welcome here."

Nightpelt, the ShadowClan warrior, nodded in agreement. "Leave them. If they dare show their faces again, ShadowClan will be strong enough by then to tackle them alone."

"The kits!"

Graypaw's meow came from the far corner of the clearing. Firepaw rushed over to his friend, the rest of his Clanmates sans Darkstripe bounding at his heels. As they approached, they could hear the pitiful mewling of kits coming from beneath a pile of twigs and leaves. Quickly, Graypaw and Mousefur dug through the foliage until they had uncovered the kits at the bottom of a small pit. Cinderkit emerged from the pit, her blue eyes brightening immediately when she saw Firepaw.

"Firepaw!" she meowed happily. "I knew you would come! I knew you would save us!"

"Hello, Cinderkit," Firepaw meowed kindly as the small gray kitten danced happily around him. She had a few scratches here and there, but they didn't seem to have dampened her spirit.

"The kits are fond of him," Sandpaw explained to Dawncloud, who nodded in amusement.

"This little tabby has a pretty nasty wound in his ear," Graypaw meowed, examining Thornkit worriedly. "Could you take a look, Yellowfang?"

The old queen was licking her own wounds, but at Graypaw's call, she raced to the side of the pit, where Graypaw had carefully deposited the tabby kit.

Yellowfang looked at the torn ear. "We'll need to stop the bleeding," she meowed.

Runningnose stepped out of the shadows. His forepaw was coated in a layer of cobwebs, which he silently passed over to Yellowfang. She nodded her thanks and began to treat Thornkit's wound.

Nightpelt approached the group of ThunderClan cats. "You have helped ShadowClan rid itself of a brutal and dangerous leader, and we are grateful. But it is time for you to return to your own camp. I promise your hunting grounds will be free of ShadowClan warriors as long as we can find enough food in our own territory."

Whitestorm nodded. "Hunt in peace for one moon, Nightpelt. ThunderClan knows you need time to rebuild your Clan." He turned to Yellowfang. "And you, Yellowfang? Do you wish to return with us or stay here with your old comrades?"

Yellowfang looked up at him. "I will make the journey back with you," she rasped, glancing at a deep gash on Whitestorm's hind leg. "You will need a medicine cat for yourself, as well as your kits."

"Yay!" Cinderkit cheered. "Yellowfang is going to stay with us!"

Whitestorm chuckled in amusement and, with a flick of his tail, signaled to the ThunderClan cats and led them out of the camp. Mousefur and Sandpaw helped the kits as they stumbled along, all of them exhausted and bewildered with the exception of Cinderkit, who chatted happily all the way back to the ThunderClan camp.

"Did you see their camp, Firepaw? It smelled horrible! Why do they live there? I thought bad smells made cats sick. And there was crowfood everywhere! Do ShadowClan warriors not know how to hunt? Maybe Nightpelt will teach them. When I become an apprentice, I'm going to learn how to hunt so I don't have to eat crowfood. You'll teach me, right? Please? I'll make Bluestar let you mentor me! You can teach me how to hunt _and _fight, and then someday I'll be as cool as you..."

* * *

**Oh, Cinderkit. Still as bubbly and happy as ever. **

**The kits are home safe, and now it's time for Firepaw, Sandpaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw's warrior ceremony! I've thought of five potential names for Ravenpaw, so let me know in the reviews which one you like the best. **

**1\. Ravenflight **

**2\. Ravenfeather **

**3\. Ravenwhisper **

**4\. Raventail **

**5\. Ravenshine **

**Thanks for reading, **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	28. Warriors

**Okay, so there ended up being a tie between Ravenflight and Ravenfeather, so I've decided to go with Ravenflight since it just appeals to me a little more. I might use Ravenfeather in another fanfic if I ever get around to writing more stories.**

* * *

Frostfur was lying down in the clearing when the rescue patrol returned, her head resting sadly on her paws. As soon as she spotted the returning cats, however, she rushed forward and nuzzled her kits.

"My kits!" she purred happily as all four crowded around her, even Cinderkit. She licked them all furiously, trying to comfort all four at once. As Firepaw padded into the camp, the white-furred queen glanced up at him. She didn't say anything, but the gratitude in her eyes spoke more than any words ever could.

Bluestar glanced fondly at Frostfur and her kits then walked over to Firepaw and gently touched her nose to his forehead. "Well done," she whispered so that only he could hear. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Firepaw flicked his ears in embarrassment, then tensed as Tigerclaw stalked up to them, glaring at Yellowfang. The old gray molly was hanging out at the back near the camp entrance, an air of uncertainty about her.

"Why have you brought the rogue back?" he growled.

"I thought we agreed that Yellowfang had nothing to do with stealing the kits or killing Spottedleaf," Firepaw snapped back, quickly losing his patience.

"We agreed that _she _hadn't killed Spottedleaf or stolen the kits," Longtail snarled. "Not that she didn't help her ShadowClan friends to do so."

"Without Yellowfang, we would never have rescued the kits," Sandpaw spat back. "I feel sorry for Dustpaw if this is how _you _turned out after being mentored by Darkstripe."

"Yellowfang was the one who realized who had taken the kits," Graypaw added. "She was hunting for them when we found her. It was her plan that allowed us to save them from ShadowClan and gave us a chance to defeat Brokenstar!"

The cats listened to the apprentices' words, astonished.

"They're right," Whitestorm meowed. "Yellowfang is a friend."

"I'm glad to hear it," Bluestar murmured, casting Firepaw a gentle look.

Frostfur's anxious meow sounded from the back of the crowd. "Is Brokenstar dead?"

"No, he escaped," Whitestorm told her. "But he will never lead ShadowClan again."

Frostfur let out a sigh of relief and went back to nuzzling her kits.

Whitestorm looked at Bluestar. "I promised ShadowClan we would leave them in peace until the next full moon," he explained. "They will need time to rebuild their Clan after Brokenstar's rule."

Bluestar nodded. "That is a wise and generous offer," she meowed approvingly.

The ThunderClan leader walked past Whitestorm and approached Yellowfang. The rest of the Clan looked on as Yellowfang lowered her eyes as Bluestar touched the gray queen's rough coat with her nose.

"Yellowfang, I wish you to replace Spottedleaf as ThunderClan's medicine cat," Bluestar meowed. "I'm sure you'll find all her supplies as she left them."

The other cats began murmuring to one another, excitedly flicking their tails. Firepaw was relieved to see that, despite their previous hostility, none of them seemed against the idea of Yellowfang taking Spottedleaf's place. Frostfur glanced between her fellow nursery queens for a few heartbeats before she slowly nodded her agreement.

Yellowfang dipped her head to the white molly before turning to address her new leader. "Thank you, Bluestar. ShadowClan is not the Clan I once knew. ThunderClan is my Clan now."

Bluestar nodded to her, then meowed, "There is one more ceremony I would like to perform tonight." She turned to Firepaw, Graypaw, Sandpaw, and Ravenpaw. "You four have shown great courage tonight. Whitestorm, did they fight well in the battle?"

"Like warriors," the great white warrior meowed solemnly.

Firepaw stiffened, and Sandpaw, Ravenpaw, and Graypaw stared at Bluestar with a mixture of shock and excitement on their faces. Was she really about to do what they thought she was doing?

She was! The ThunderClan leader lifted her head to the dark sky and fixed her eyes on Silverpelt's swath of stars. Her voice rang out, clear and measured in the hushed woods.

"I, Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn." She looked down at the four apprentices, narrowing her eyes. "Firepaw, Sandpaw, Ravenpaw, and Graypaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?"

Firepaw glanced around the clearing for a moment at the cats who had become his family over the past few moons. Whitestorm was looking at Sandpaw proudly, while Willowpelt, Graypaw's mother, was gazing at her son with a similar expression of pride. Tigerclaw didn't look pleased or proud–he never did–but there was something about his expression that seemed slightly less hostile than normal. Then he looked back up at Bluestar. As their eyes met, intense warmth and affection that seemed to be reserved only for him flitted across her face.

"I do," he meowed, his voice ringing out steadily.

"I do," echoed the voices of Sandpaw, Ravenpaw, and Graypaw, their tails bristling with excitement.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names," Bluestar meowed. "Graypaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Graystripe. StarClan honors your bravery and your strength, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

She stepped forward and rested her muzzle on the gray warrior's head. Graystripe bent down to lick her shoulder respectfully, then straightened up again and padded over to join the other warriors.

"Sandpaw," Bluestar meowed, turning to the pale ginger molly next. "From this moment on, you will be known as Sandstorm. StarClan honors your courage and quick wit, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

Just as she'd done with Graystripe, Bluestar stepped forward and rested her muzzle on Sandstorm's head. Sandstorm licked her shoulder respectfully, her body trembling from excitement before she turned and left to join Graystripe.

"Ravenpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Ravenflight," Bluestar meowed to Tigerclaw's apprentice. "StarClan honors your intelligence and your bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

Once more, she rested her muzzle on Ravenflight's head and the black cat licked her shoulder before padding over to join his friends. Now it was Firepaw's turn.

Bluestar stood once more and looked at Firepaw for a long moment without speaking. As she gazed at him, several emotions flickered her face in rapid succession, fast enough that he couldn't be sure of what any of them were. Firepaw wondered what sort of attributes he had that were worthy of StarClan's honor. He wasn't an especially fantastic hunter or fighter, and all he'd really done was nearly get himself killed a few times. He was loyal to his Clan, but then again, wasn't everyone?

Did he even deserve this ceremony?

Maybe he didn't. After all, Dustpaw was older than him. If he'd been at the battle, he would probably be having his ceremony right now too.

But on the other hand...Dustpaw had refused to go with them while Firepaw had more or less helped organized the entire mission. He had gone in over his head on several occasions, but all had been for the sake of his Clan. Maybe he wasn't the strongest fighter or the fastest hunter, but he did his best with what he had, and maybe that was all that counted.

"Firepaw," Bluestar meowed finally, her voice ringing out loud and clear. "From this moment on, you will be known as Fireheart. StarClan honors your selflessness and your kindness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan." She rested her muzzle on Fireheart's head and murmured, "Fireheart, I am proud to have you as my warrior. Serve your Clan well, young one."

Fireheart's muscles were trembling, but he forced himself to bend his head and lick his mentor's shoulder. He purred hoarsely to show his thanks, then padded over to join the rest of the new warriors.

A murmur rose from the crowd, which quickly swelled into a single cry as the Clan cheered for the new warriors. "Fireheart! Sandstorm! Graystripe! Ravenflight!"

Then Fireheart heard Cinderkit give a squeal of excitement. "Yay! That means Fireheart can be my mentor now!"

He craned his neck and saw the tiny gray kitten chasing her tail in excitement. Bluestar was watching Cinderkit as well, an amused yet thoughtful expression on her face. Perhaps she was taking the young kit's words into consideration.

But Fireheart also noticed that not everyone joined in on congratulating the new warriors. Dustpaw was glaring at him, his eyes narrowed and a look of hatred, envy, and resentment twisting his features. He didn't even seem happy for Ravenflight, his own littermate. Fireheart watched as he stalked over to Tigerclaw, Longtail, and Darkstripe. All three of them had cheered the new warriors, but Fireheart had seen that it was only perfunctory.

"It is almost moonhigh," Bluestar announced. "In the tradition of our warrior ancestors, Fireheart, Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Ravenflight must sit vigil alone and guard the camp while the rest of us sleep."

The four named warriors nodded in acceptance.

Fireheart padded over to the center of the clearing and settled himself down next to Sandstorm as the rest of the Clan retired to their nests. She glanced over at him and blinked warmly at him but neither warrior said a word. He turned his gaze upward and stared at the vast expanse of stars lining the sky above his head. It was strange, he reflected, that all the training he'd endured for the past three moons had been for the sake of this single moment. The rabbit he'd caught on his first hunting assessment, battling for Sunningrocks on his second day as an apprentice, traveling to the Moonstone, fighting the rats and then helping battle against ShadowClan, and finally, helping ShadowClan rid themselves of a cruel and tyrannical leader. Even taking lessons from Spottedleaf and befriending Cinderkit, although they hadn't been part of his training, had played a part in aiding his growth from a pampered kittypet into a fully fledged warrior of ThunderClan.

Leaf-bare would be coming soon. In a moon or so, the air would be crisp and chilling to the bone. The trees, currently glowing with a variety of vibrant colors, would be covered in a thick layer of white snow, as would the rest of the forest.

Fireheart wondered what sort of changes the turning of the seasons would bring to his own life. Now that he was a warrior, what would he work towards next? Maybe he would mentor an apprentice of his own someday. Bluestar seemed to like the idea of him taking on Cinderkit someday, and Fireheart couldn't deny that he hoped he would be chosen to mentor her. Maybe he would find a mate and have kits together with her. Maybe he would even follow in Bluestar's footsteps and become the leader one day, although that seemed far from likely, and not just because Tigerclaw was next in line and would never allow a former kittypet to have any sort of power within the Clan. Anyway, he wasn't leader material.

A chilly breeze ruffled his fur, and Fireheart shivered involuntarily. Despite the bite of the cold against his pelt, the flame-colored warrior felt a rush of unbridled joy and anticipation.

_Change is coming, indeed. _

* * *

** That concludes book one! I have plans to start _Fire and Ice _within the next few days. Fair warning: there will be a LOT happening in that book. Stay tuned! **

**I know a lot of you want Bluestar to tell Fireheart that she's his mother. Without giving too much away, I'll just say that the truth won't come out until the _Forest of Secrets _arc. One, because this is Fireheart and he's stupid, and two, I want to build a little more on their relationship and Fireheart's individual character before the big reveal. **

**Fair warning, Graystripe will get some pretty harsh treatment in the next book. This is due to a personal pet peeve of mine when it comes to the canon first series. I've always felt that the books let Graystripe get away with too much. In fact, they treat him as if he's done nothing wrong. I mean, did he ever apologize to Fireheart for treating him like shit while Fireheart was lying to help him cover his illicit relationship? Not from what I remember; as a matter of fact, I seem to remember that _Fireheart _was the one who ended up taking responsibility for the entire fight. Even though, you know, there's really no way you could twist it into being his fault while holding any sort of credibility. Who was the one breaking the warrior code? Graystripe. Who was the one who attacked his friend in the middle of the camp? Graystripe. Who was the one who neglected his apprentice? Graystripe. Who was the one who was always off with their RiverClan girlfriend and never around when Fireheart needed him? Graystripe. **

**This turned into more of a rant than I planned, but you get the point. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**

* * *

_Update: The new book is out! _


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